Accidents
by cherryorpeach
Summary: When her father was killed, she was left with no protection. So she did what they had been doing for years - running and hiding from the enemy. But then she ended up in Beacon Hills. And it wasn't just another town on the map, another place to hide. It was home. Derek/OC AU
1. Chapter 1

**This is a very, very rough draft. I just wanted to get the idea out of my head. **

**Feel free to send me private messages or reviews with your suggestions, critiques, supports. **

**If you like it, let me know. I'll edit this and continue writing this fanfiction 'cause I kinda like what I've written so far. (:**

**The picture might not make sense with the story, but it will. And I was REALLY careful and quick when I was taking the picture. Didn't touch the eggs or the nest. Healthy baby birds hatched.**

* * *

_"I didn't see him," he said. "He came out from nowhere. It... It was an accident." He looked at the girl pressing against the wound to stop the blood flowing out, trying to save her father. He felt a stab of regret but quickly suppressed it. Sentimentalism is a sin. But so is lying. However, he had orders... he couldn't tell her the truth. "Please, Anna. Believe me," he lied. The man watched as the girl – his niece – got up, her nightgown soaked with her father's blood._

_"I don't believe you," she said, voice steady and eyes gleaming with hatred._

_He shook his head, trying to ignore the guilt in his heart. "One day you will forgive me." __He watched as she ran out of the house. _

_She ran into the forest, ignoring the pebbles and twigs jabbing at her bare feet and the branches whipping against her body as she delved deeper into the darkness. But she less concerned with her injuries and more concerned with staying alive. She had to change her appearance, get new identity, leave the country..._

_Anna knew he meant to kill her father. But she didn't know why. Forgive him? He didn't even apologize. _

* * *

Derek was in a convenient store, browsing through the newspapers when he heard the soft purr of an engine outside. He nodded, appreciatively. _"Nice car." _He didn't have to look at the vehicle to know that it was. Flipping through the pages, he stopped at one article. _**Sudden Deaths Raise Suspicions. **__A quiet and small town in northern Oregon took a grim turn with its seventh strange documented death this month. Prior to their deaths, the seven people have been seen walking idly for days before being surrounded by a thick, dark cloud and then undergoing convulsions. The Spring Falls Police Department issued several warnings for the townsfolk urging them to adhere to a…_

" 'Scuse me."

"What," Derek snapped, annoyed at being interrupted. He should be used to this by now. People coming up to him asking if he was guilty of the murders or asking him if he wanted to have some fun for the night.

But looking at this stranger, this young woman, he knew that she neither cared about the accusations or the company.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," she said pushing back her black hair away from her face.

He resisted the temptation to run his fingers through her thick, long locks.

"But I wanna grab that magazine and you're in the way."

Derek swallowed, wishing his throat wasn't as dry as it was. "Yeah, sorry about that." Sorry? Since when did he start saying sorry? Derek Hale _never_ apologizes.

She threw him a smile which Derek knew was genuine and not one of those flirty ones. "Thanks," she said as she picked a magazine and walked to the cashier to pay.

Derek watched as she walked to counter and then out the store, his eyes gazing down her back to her hips and legs. He felt the primal urges claw at his insides, wanting to be free and take the female right there and then…

He shook his head. What the hell was that? That feeling… He felt his muscles tremble and his body heat. He brazenly stared at her as she left, not caring if she noticed or not. She got into a sleek black car which he noticed was the car with the impressive engine.

Who the hell was that?

* * *

"Coffee. Black. One pancake. Make it fast."

Derek closed his eyes and sat down at the front of Jubilee's. The week had been tough. He spent the past days training the pups and teaching them everything he knew. "Dammit," he scowled, slamming his hands against the counter. If only his pack had half the strength of Scott's, things would go much better for him.

"Rough day?"

He froze. Where have I heard that voice before? He turned to face the speaker and recognized her. "You were at the convenient store last night. You're the girl with that fancy car."

She laughed. Derek felt the beast whine piteously at the sound. Fuck, he could listen to that laugh all day. The waitress tossed the dirty rag she had been using to clean the counter into the sink and washed her hands.

"No, I'm the girl with the '67 Pontiac GTO," she said, teasing him. "Don't know who you're talkin' 'bout." She handed him a mug of hot, black coffee before turning around to get his pancake. "You sure you only want one? I make the breakfast food now. Should taste better than the crap Filipe makes."

Derek stared at her. He barely knew this woman and already he was imagining the things he would love to do to her. "Nah. Just one," he said.

She nodded, deciding not to call him out on his obvious stare. "Next time."

He picked up his fork and started to eat that one pancake, which he admitted, _did_ taste better than the crap Filipe made. "So," he said, getting her attention. "You're new." He swallowed the coffee, grimacing as it burned down his throat.

"Yes. Yes, I am." She grinned at him, amused that this brooding handsome man was having difficulty starting up a conversation.

"Means I gotta ask you the basic nosy yet friendly neighbor questions." Another bite of the pancakes. "What's your name, where're you from, why you chose here… Just to make sure you're not a serial killer targeting this nice town, Beacon Hills." Another sip.

She leaned against the counter. "Summer. Atlanta. Needed a new start." Summer turned to another customer. "Hi, I'll take your order."

Derek took this distraction as the chance to study her. He admired her tall, tan, lean body and felt the need to touch her just to see if her skin felt as soft as it looked. He noticed her long hair was up in a messy bun and he wanted to rip the hair tie off, to see her hair tumble down, to stroke the strands. He growled as he felt his length harden and he held his breath, trying to calm himself down, to contain the wolf. But as he shut his eyes, his imagination ran wild, out of control. He could see her legs wrapped around his waist, skin glistening with sweat. He could hear her moaning, aroused by his touches as they trailed down to stroke her sensitive core. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her head up so he could kiss those lips… bite them… She touched shoulder so gently but it caused him to shiver in anticipation… He groaned…

"Hey!" Summer shouted, shaking his shoulder.

Derek jumped in the seat. "What?" he said, confused.

She looked at him, concerned. "You alright? You were moanin' and groanin' like you were in pain." She gestured to his empty mug. "More coffee? You look exhausted."

He clenched his hands into fists, pissed that he let himself get weak. He never felt this vulnerable towards a female, not even towards Kate. Kate Argent, the first woman who made him feel powerful, who made him believe in something stupid like love, who – in the end – turned out to be a hunter and killed his family and friends. "Yeah, just a bit more."

"So, now you know more 'bout me than I know 'bout you. Which means I gotta ask…" She glanced at him. That one glance and Derek felt like she was staring right into his soul. "All that obvious staring you doin', you gon' stalk me?"

At least Derek had the common sense to look embarrassed at getting caught. He finished his pancake and drank his coffee before placing a generous tip on the counter for her. Getting up to leave, he stared into her dark brown eyes and said, "Could you blame me?"

Reaching the door, he felt a shiver crawl up his spine as he heard her laugh. He liked that laugh.

He'd have to be careful with this woman. The more of an affect a woman has on him, the more dangerous she is.

* * *

"Stop."

"What?"

"You know what. Stop staring at Lydia," Derek snapped. "You're making me uncomfortable."

"Then don't watch," Stiles said, still watching Lydia as she walked towards her car.

"It's not that easy considering you're making it so obvious with your tongue hanging out."

"Gah!" Stiles shouted, obnoxiously sucking his saliva back in. "Sorry."

Derek smirked. "Baby Stiles got a bit of drool on his chin." He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, impatient. They were waiting in Derek's car with the engine running but headlights off. Derek didn't want the neighbors to see him and Stiles spying on the Martins. "Come on, Scott. Where the hell are you?"

"No, I don't," Stiles said, trying to hide his hand that was wiping at his chin. "Can we just leave him and go? I'm starving."

"I had chicken in the fridge! You should have eaten back at the hotel."

"Uh, one, it was old. Two, it wasn't the fridge. It was the cooler."

"So?"

"So… Last time I checked, there was a dead body in there."

"Listen, that was just one time. Alright? I cleaned it with bleach so it's fine."

Stiles looked at him in disbelief. "Dead. Body."

Rolling his eyes, he saw Scott jump out the window, landing on all fours. He crept to the corner of the house, glanced around, then sprinted back to the Camaro. "So? Did you get it?" Derek put his headlights back on and drove out of the development.

"No," Scott said, leaning back and taking deep breaths to calm his nerves. He could have sworn his heart stopped beating when Lydia heard the noise he made and went to investigate.

"What?" Derek slammed on the breaks and Stiles and Scott lurched forward in their seats.

"What the hell, man?" Scott shouted.

"What do you mean no?" He continued to drive. "One thing, Scott. I asked for one thing."

"Dude, I couldn't get it."

"Don't call me that," Derek snapped.

"But I did see it."

"You saw it? And you didn't think that you should have taken it?" He was pissed. They spent weeks to researching and finding answers. Things were taking too long and they didn't have enough time. People were dying in the same, mysterious way along the west coast – humans and supernatural.

"Because her mom was wearing it," Scott said. "I can't just walk up to her and say, 'Oh, hey, Mrs. Martin. That's a cool necklace. Anyways, I need it to save lives – no big deal. So, mind if I take it?' "

"Okaaay," Stiles interrupted, trying to lessen the tension. "Can we all relax and wonder why we're heading to Jubilee's and not to Scott's work?" He pointed in the direction of the diner up ahead.

Ignoring Stiles, Derek said, "If you have to say that, then say it. 'Cause without it, we're all dead."

"Whoa, okay. Question numero uno." Stiles looked at Derek, concerned. "Are you serious or just being a drama queen?"

"Dead. Bodie_ssss_."

Stiles blanched. He knew it was important to get the stone but he didn't know it was that important. Even though he didn't know _why_ it was important. "On a lighter note… Number dos. Again I ask, why are we heading to Jubilee's?"

Derek glanced at Stiles before focusing back on the road. As he turned into the parking lot, he said, "Pancakes." It was, however, 2:15 a.m.

And Scott knew, looking at the reflection of Derek's face in the rearview mirror, that he wasn't being all that honest. Derek's heart was beating a bit quicker than usual.

* * *

"So why are we really here?" Scott asked, blocking Derek's path to the door. Stiles had ran inside, mind focused only on eating.

Derek glared at him, not pleased by Scott's insubordination. But, then again, Scott wasn't even in his pack, although Derek wished he was. "What do you mean?"

"Pancakes? Really, dude?" Scott took a step towards him, praying that his nervousness wouldn't be too obvious to Derek. "Since when did you eat fluffy breakfast food? Actually, I've never even seen you eat. And your heart started pounding faster when Stiles pointed out our change of direction." He looked at Derek's stoic expression. No emotion was present.

He leaned against his car and said, "There's a waitress in there and I can't figure her out. And I'm an Alpha. I figure _everyone _out." Derek stepped around Scott and opened the glass door. "I need you to analyze her. Tell me what you read. Determine if she's a threat or not."

Scott growled in frustration. Full moon was coming in days and he was getting irritated by Derek's overly cryptic words. He stormed into Jubilee's and sat down next to Stiles who was already devouring a huge stack of pancakes.

"Deesh ishoo good," Stiles said with his mouth full. He swallowed. "Ah, really, Scott. You need to try these."

Scott made a face at Stiles and his lack of table manners. "Yeah, I'll just take your word for it."

"No, really. You need to. Since when did Jubilee's pancakes get so good?"

"Since I started makin' 'em."

Derek flinched. And Scott noticed.

Summer smiled at them and turned to Scott. "Wan' some?"

Scott looked at her and didn't know what got Derek on the edge. "Sure," he managed to say. "Just one."

" 'Xactly what he said, this fine lookin' gentleman," she said tilting her head towards Derek and giving Scott a friendly wink. She left the group and went into the kitchen.

Stiles choked, face red. He took a huge gulp of his Strawberry – Banana Explosion milk shake and then laughed, hysterical. "Fine lookin' gentleman? Hah! Dude, you're, like, far from it." He sunk low in his seat upon seeing Derek glare at him.

"So?" Derek asked Scott. "What's your take?"

"What? I just met her for, like, 2 seconds!" Scott said.

"And?" Derek tapped his finger, a habit he just recently picked up since his life started getting complicated.

Scott scoffed. "And 2 seconds isn't going to –"

"I don't care. You're a werewolf. You only need 2 seconds."

"Fine!" He threw up his hands, annoyed. Sometimes he wished he could shove Derek into a trunk and push it off into the bay. "I don't know why you're seeing her as a threat. She's pretty, nice, attractive, smells good –"

"Not that!" Derek growled, gripping the edge of the table tightly. "I know that. I meant –"

"Whoa, whoa," Stiles interrupted. "Can we all just take the moment to acknowledge that, for the first time since Derek intruded on our lives, he now shows some interest in the opposite gender?"

"You. Shut up," Derek pointed at Stiles. Turning back to Scott, he asked again. "What else did you get?"

"Uh," Scott thought hard. "I guess… Well, she has a southern accent…"

"No! What does the wolf think?"

"Uh…" he closed his eyes, trying to coax the wolf to the surface, to listen to it. Scott stiffened. "No."

"What? What is it?" Derek whispered, anxious.

He looked at the Alpha. "The wolf is afraid of her."

"What?"

"I mean, the wolf… He, like, does that whining thing when he's scared. And he keeps wanting to lower his head to her. Kinda like she's his boss or something."

"Kinky," Stiles said, taking the last bite of his pancake.

Derek leaned back in the booth. "Mate." He felt a stab of jealousy crawl throughout his body. Mate. Of course, she would be claimed by someone. He pushed back the urge to hunt this someone down and shred him to pieces.

"What?" Scott asked.

Derek opened his mouth to explain when Summer came back with Scott's food. "Here ya go," she said, cheerfully. "Want anythin' to drink?"

"Yeah, what he's drinking," Scott said, pointing at Stiles.

She nodded. "And you?" she asked Derek. "Gon' have more than one this time?"

Derek shook his head. "No."

"Alright. Strawberry Banana Explosion comin' up in a few." She took Stiles' empty plate and left.

"I don't normally like Southern accents, but she makes it sound good," Stiles said before shrinking back at seeing Derek's angry face.

Scott stared at Derek. Then at the waitress. And back at Derek. "Oh, no, no, no, no…" He laughed. "You? Really? The most volatile and emotionally suppressing man to be her mate?"

Derek froze. That's why. He looked at Summer. The beautiful, Southern woman who had left her home to start a new life here in Beacon Hills. The reason he was acting the way he was, is because she is his mate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to all who messaged, reviewed, alerted, and favorite this fanfiction. (: (: (:**

**Really appreciate it!**

**A reader suggested to add some humor so I'm gonna try. I don't have a good sense of humor so let me know how it works out! **

**Feel free to MRAF! (message, review, alert, favorite)**

* * *

_She pulled her jacket tight against her body, wishing she had a place to rest. She had been running for days. She was scared, hungry, and lost. Despite everything her father taught her, she couldn't figure out which way was north; something to do with moss and the Little Dipper… Or was it the Big Dipper?_

_Anna was exhausted and all she wanted to do was collapse and sleep. But she couldn't stop running. Not when her own family was so close behind. "Traitors," she spat._

_A twig snapped behind her. She froze. Slowly, she turned around to face the sound. Anna cried out in fear, stumbling backwards. "Shit!" She patted the ground, desperately trying to find something to defend herself with. Nothing. She watched as two blue eyes came closer. Anna scrambled back to her feet and started to run until a heavy force knocked her down, pinning her body against the wet ground. There was a vicious snarl and Anna screamed as she felt something pierce her waist._

* * *

"What did I just say?" Derek shouted as he grabbed Erica by the wrist and flung her across the abandoned asylum. A loud crack was heard as she smashed through the wall.

"To not," she growled through clenched teeth, "be predictable." Erica pushed herself off the filthy ground and brushed the dust off her new clothes. "But I'm trying to be unpredictable by being predictable. You'd think that I'd give up after doing the same thing three times but I didn't. I did it again. See? Unpredictable by being predictable." She smirked at Derek while sauntering up to him.

"Yeah? Well, guess what. I _didn't_ think that," the Alpha snapped. "And neither is whatever is out there." He tensed, feeling a change in the atmosphere. Sniffing the air, he realized that it was filled with lust and he glared at the beta.

"What is it, Derek?" she whispered, eyes half closed and tongue tracing her lips. "Sense anything… Interesting?"

"You're doing it again, Erica."

"What?"

"Talking. I prefer you with your mouth shut."

She trailed her fingertips down his chest, grinding her hips against his. "You'll prefer me even more with my mouth open. The things I could do with –"

He grasped her hand tightly. Erica cried out as she felt her bones snap. "What the fuck?"

Derek shoved her away and scoffed as she lost her balance, falling hard to the concrete floor. "Do that again, and I'll break more than just your wrist." He tilted his head to the side, noting Erica glancing at something behind him. He whirled around in time to see Isaac and Boyd sprint towards him, claws extended. Derek ducked and the betas went soaring past the leader's head. Derek quickly wrapped his fingers around the Isaac's ankle and yanked him down, slamming against the floor. Boyd went crashing through the two - way glass, grunting in pain as a shard sliced through his side.

"Got you this time, right?" Isaac said with an obnoxious grin on his face.

"No. Because I caught you."

* * *

Stiles wrinkled his nose in disgust. "You smell. Ew. Sweat. Werewolf sweat. Stench." He stuck his head out the window and started to dry heave. Scott had called Derek while he was training his pack, telling him he was able to get the necklace from Mrs. Martin. The lone wolf also told him to pick up Stiles before meeting up which Derek reluctantly agreed to do.

"I'm going to speed up," Derek calmly said. "Then I'm going to swerve towards a pole and watch as your head gets bashed in. And I will laugh. Then you won't have to worry about my smell anymore."

"You wouldn't."

"Really?"

Stiles squirmed in his seat. "Yeah, 'cause Scott will avenge my death."

"Scott's a puppy. I'm an Alpha. Who do you think will win in that fight?"

"Scott. Because he's young. He's got that robust health thing going on. And you? You're losing it, old man."

"Call me old man one more time."

"No, no, I'm good."

Derek barely put his car in park before Stiles scrambled out, running inside Scott's house.

He smirked. "Twitchy little mouse."

He rested his head against the window, waiting impatiently for Stiles to get Scott. Finally, the stone was in their possession. He glanced at the clock. A minute passed. _"How long does it take to get Scott?" _Derek looked outside, admiring the nature – something he would never willingly admit to. _"Could be tomorrow all this will turn to ash." _He shut his eyes, deciding a little rest would be good since he stayed up all night researching about the black fog that was appearing up and down the west coast. _"But why only here? Why not other places?"_ Derek thought as he drifted into sleep.

He woke up when he felt her warm lips kiss his stomach. His muscles clenched in anticipation. His eyes were closed but he knew she had that smile he loved so much. He felt her kisses trail up to his chest, his neck, his lips. She gently bit down on his lower lip before slowly kissing him, stroking the inside of his mouth with her tongue. He responded with a growl and flipped her over so she was trapped beneath him. She laughed, loving how he was so strong but tender at the same time. He brushed his fingers down her breast to her waist and whispered _"I love you, Anna." _She sighed, pressing her lips against his throat, feeling the thick vein pulse with a rush of blood. _"I love you, too."_

Derek woke, startled by a pounding against his window.

"Derek! Open the goddamn door!" Scott shouted.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and he hit the unlock switch. He felt an uncomfortable pressure and was stunned to see himself hard. He could feel the trickles of sweat drip down his back, making his shirt damper and he hurried to turn up the A.C.

_"Anna? Why'd I call her Anna?"_ Derek thought, confused.

"Jesus, Derek," Stiles said. "We've been knocking on your window for the past minute. That must have been one hell of a dream."

Derek glared at him, nervous. "What do you mean?" he snapped.

"Calm down," he said. "I meant that it must have been some kind of dream to keep you deep in sleep."

"Yeah," Scott said in a tone that suggested he knew what the dream was about. "Some kind of dream, huh."

Derek quickly glimpsed at Scott and cursed silently. He forgot that Scott could smell his arousal. "So, where's the stone?" he asked, trying to divert the conversation to a more important one.

"Holy shit," Stiles shouted, panicking. He hurriedly pushed himself away from Derek, pressing himself against the passenger door. "What the hell is _that_? Please say it's a ruler, please say it's a ruler!" Stiles shut his eyes, freaking out, pointing at the bulge constricted by Derek's jeans.

"Shut up!" Derek shouted, clenching the steering wheel. "Scott! Where's the stone?"

"What?" Scott leaned forward to see what Stiles was pointing at. "What is… _Oh_..."

"Stop. Stop looking at my –"

"Don't say it! Don't say the 'P' word!" Stiles cried. "Don't say p – p – PENIS!"

"Shut up!" Derek slammed his hand against the dashboard, cracking it. "Just drop this discussion."

"How about you drop _that_ first," Stiles retorted, cowering at Derek's threatening expression.

Derek angrily put his Camaro in drive and sped towards his house. "Stiles."

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to break your finger if you keep pointing at my dick."

"Sorry!"

Derek's embarrassment and arousal was so thick that Scott wanted to jump out of the moving vehicle. "Hey, Derek…"

"What?"

"Can you… You know. Dial down your… emotions a bit? 'Cause, I'm drowning, man," Scott said, praying that Derek won't explode. He gulped, nervous, when he saw the murderous expression on the Alpha's face.

* * *

Derek stormed into Jubilee's, scaring the customers who could feel the rage exude from his body. Never. He had never felt that embarrassed his entire life. This was worse than the time his cousin walked in on him masturbating to Uncle Peter's Playboy Magazine. He is the Alpha. He's supposed to have better control than that. "Fuck," he said, furious. He smacked the table so hard that a glass from a previous customer rolled off and hit the floor, shattering.

He heard footsteps hurry towards his direction and he turned to yell at the stranger to go away.

Summer, who was walking towards him, hesitated, seeing the anger in Derek's eyes. Deciding he wanted to be alone, she turned to leave.

"No, wait!" he said, wishing he hadn't gotten carried away. He didn't mean to frighten her.

She cautiously walked back to him, an uneasy smile on her face.

_"No. No, smile like before. Like when we first met," _Derek thought.

"Are you alright?" she asked, concerned.

"Yeah," he said. It was the truth. The moment he saw her, he felt the stress leave him. "I'm alright."

She nodded. "Okay. Just don't do that outburst again. You're scarin' away the customers."

Derek looked around and noticed that Jubilee's was practically empty when moments before, it was packed. "Sorry." And he felt sorry.

Summer smiled and Derek felt the wolf howl in pride knowing that he was the reason she smiled. "Try not to kick me while I clean up your mess," she joked, kneeling to gather the shards.

And then the wolf whimpered, tail between its legs. "I didn't mean to… No, stop. I'll do it." He pulled her up and sat her down on a chair. He took her towel and placed the pieces into it, throwing it in the trash. "Sorry."

Summer looked at him, noticing the worried look on his face. "It's alright. Don't worry 'bout it. S'long as you don't do it again."

He sat down across from her. He studying her face, wanting to memorize every detail. Her dark eyes, her nose, the curve of her lips when she smiled. He saw her blush and realized he liked it.

"You're starin'. Sure you ain't a stalker?"

"Sorry," he said. "It's just a bit hard not to stare." He gave, what he hoped was, a relaxing and friendly smile.

"I'm guessin' no one told you that flattery'll get you nowhere." She had a teasing glint in her eyes.

"My mom. But it's a good thing I never listened."

"Why's that?"

"Because it makes you smile. And I like your smile."

Summer laughed. "I could go all day hearin' your compliments. Shame I ain't got none to give you."

"What about that one time…" He pretended to think real hard. "I think you called me a 'fine lookin' gentleman', " he quoted, using a southern accent.

"I think I did."

* * *

"Dude, this is so wrong," Stiles groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead.

"Shut up," Scott said, inching closer to the window.

"When Derek finds out we're spying on him, he's going to disembowel us. No, wait. That's not gonna satisfy him enough. He's going to rip off our jewels and leave us alive and embarrassed at our lack of male genitalia."

Scott shoved Stiles to the ground, annoyed. "No, because he's not going to find out. And I can't believe you just said male genitalia."

"He will." Despite being against this, Stiles still followed behind Scott.

"I knew it!" Scott exclaimed.

"What?"

"He _is _here. He's here with that waitress! He's bitching about us not focusing on the job when he's here talking to her! Hypocrite!"

"The pretty Southern girl with the badass pancakes?"

"Shh!"

"Wha – Shh yourself! You're talking, too!"

"Yeah, well, I'm trying to listen." Scott morphed into the werewolf for better hearing. "Got it."

"What are they saying? Tell me!"

"Shh!" He focused on just Derek and Summer, ignoring the other voices in the diner. Scott laughed.

"What?"

"Derek's flirting with the waitress." His smile quickly faded into a frown. Scott grimaced, uncomfortable with what he was hearing. "And failing at it. Oh, no. This is too embarrassing to listen to. Derek's saying creepy things."

"Like what?"

"Like, 'I love that look in your eye when you talk about Socrates'. " Scott shuddered. "Ugh, I can't – I can't listen to this. Let's go."

"What? We just got here! At least let's go inside and get some of that pancakes and Explosion!"

* * *

"And what I find so entertainin' is the writers' portrayals of other writers. Dante's depiction of Virgil in _Inferno_, Aeschylus in Aristophanes' _Frogs_, and –" She stopped. "Huh."

Derek stopped smiling. "What?"

"You haven't heard a word I was sayin'."

"I have! I just… Don't really care about classical literature," he sheepishly admitted.

She looked at him, incredulous. "But… I thought… Then why the hell did you let me talk 'bout this for the past 10 minutes?"

"I don't give a shit about it. But you do," he said, staring at her intently. "And I want to know about the things that are important to you. And…"

"And?"

"And the second you said Sophocrates you got this look in your eyes. Didn't want it to go away so I just kept you talking."

She stared back at him. Summer gave an amused smile as she got up. She smoothed out her apron and picked his empty plate - he had eaten more than one pancake this time - and his mug. Turning to walk back to the kitchen, she said, glancing at him over her shoulder, "Sophocles. Socrates. Two different people."

And for the first time in years, Derek Hale laughed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the MRAFs! (:**_  
_

**Hope this chapter isn't disappointing. Someone asked for the timeline of this story; this takes place a year after season 2. So Scott, Stiles, Allison, etc. would be... seniors? If they were sophomores in season 1, juniors in season 2. I'm running off the idea of the Argents and werewolves being allies after the Kanima incident. But the relationship between the Scott and Allison's parents is great.**

**I bring in a bit of the past into this chapter.**

**Feel free to critique - doesn't matter if it's positive or negative.**

* * *

_"There! She's over there!"_

_Anna jumped to her feet, ignoring the painful throb on her side. "No, no, no," she whispered, racing through the trees. She couldn't get caught. She couldn't. Not when she could feel a warm breeze up ahead, telling her she's almost out of the forest._

_"She's too fast! Let the dogs loose!"_

_She could hear the fierce barking and she pushed herself to run faster. Then, she felt a pull. Instinct. She spun around to face the dogs who were now in view, preparing to jump on her. _

_Instinct. She screamed at the dogs. They yowled, tails tucked in, and scampered back in the direction they came from. Anna gasped for air. "What?" she said, dazed by the sound she made. Because it wasn't just a scream. It was the same as her attacker – a vicious snarl._

* * *

Derek paced back and forth in his kitchen, replaying the scenes from last night. "Dammit," he said. "I must have sounded so _stupid_." He threw his microwave in anger. "I like your eyes… Your smile… She probably thinks I'm a creep. _Idiot_."

"No, _she_ thinks you're a fine lookin' gentleman. _We _think you're a creep."

"Don't you know how to knock?" Derek snapped at Stiles.

Stiles looked to the main entrance, then back at Derek. "Knock? Dude, you don't have a door. Remember that fight you had here? By the way, which was last year so you should have gotten a door by now –"

"Call me dude one more time and I swear…"

"Alright! Not calling you dude."

"So, you never really explained the whole mate thing," Scott said. "But judging by the fact that you can't stay away from her… And your, you know, pervy obsession – lack of a better word… I'm going to say she's _your_ mate. Right?"

"First intelligent thing I've ever heard you say, Scott."

"I say a lot of intelligent things. You just never listen."

"Remember the first few months when you were changed?"

"Yeah?"

"You used to be scared of me and _not_ talk back. Those few months were the best."

"Okaaay," Stiles shouted, plopping on the ashy couch, coughing as the dust flew around him. "So, about that necklace."

"Yes, Scott. About that necklace. Where is it?"

He pulled it out of his pocket and tossed it to Derek. "Here. But you have to open it 'cause I can't. And I'm going to meet Allison in a few hours so we're gonna have to do this quick."

"No," Derek said, studying the necklace. "This is more important than screwing around with your hunter girlfriend."

"Are you serious? You're telling us to cut back on our freedom when you've been trying to get in that girl's pants – Crap!"

Derek yanked Scott up by the collar, his feet dangling. "Watch what you say. You might not be in my pack, but I'm an Alpha," he growled. "And you're just a lone wolf."

"Don't deny it." Scott struggled to loosen Derek's grip. "We saw you last night at the diner –"

"You two idiots were following me?" he shouted, throwing Scott across the kitchen.

"It was Scott's idea!" Stiles said, leaping over the couch to avoid Derek's outburst. "I told him it was a bad idea!"

The Alpha glowered at Scott, angry at having his personal life invaded and angry at not realizing he was followed. "Don't do it again."

Scott got up, straightened his clothes, and walked up to Derek. "Whatever. Just don't think you can fool us. We're not like your clueless pups."

Nodding, Derek said, "Fine." He looked back at the necklace, trying to find some kind of opening. "You want to see your girlfriend, Scott? Go. But ask her father about this." He gave the necklace back to Scott. "Chris should know what to do with it."

"I will."

* * *

Summer sighed, flicking a lock of hair away from her face. She bent down to pick up the bag of carrots that dropped from the top of her grocery bag and continued to walk up the path to the hotel room. The decision to move was a spur of the moment after her fiancé was killed so she didn't have time to search for an apartment.

She bit her tongue in frustration, balancing her groceries on her arm and hip, the other hand trying to unlock the door. "Honey, if you don't open up," she said to the door as she jiggled the key inside the lock, "I swear to heaven that I'll –"

"Need some help?"

Summer jumped, startled. The carrots fell but just before it hit the ground, a hand snatched it up.

"Oh, please don't frighten me again," she said, breathing deeply to slow her racing heart.

Derek grinned. "Sorry. Didn't think you were _that _jumpy." He placed the carrots back in the bag and took it from her.

Finally, she unlocked the door. "You stayin' at this hotel, too?"

"No." He shut the door behind him and put the bag on the table. Derek watched as Summer pulled back the curtains, letting the light shine in. "I was driving by and saw your car. Wanted to say hi." He helped her put the food in the tiny fridge. "Why are you staying here?"

"Didn't have time to find an actual place to stay. So decided this room would be best." She opened a pack of Yoplait and took one out. "Cheap, close to work and the library." She swallowed a spoonful.

Derek nodded. They finished putting the food away but he didn't want to leave. Summer noticed. "Wanna stay a while? I could use the company."

"Yeah," he said, smiling. He sat on the bed and frowned.

"What?"

"This bed is really hard." Derek looked around the tiny room before looking back at Summer. He watched as she ate her yogurt while staring out the window with a peaceful expression. His smile got bigger. _"She's really beautiful."_

"I realized something," she said, glancing at him.

He looked at her, curious.

"I don't even know your name."

Derek got up, walked to her, and took her hand in his. Shaking it, he said, "Derek Hale. Pleased to meet you, ma'am." He gave her a boyish grin and swelled with pride when she laughed. _"I made her laugh again."_

"That's somethin' a true Southern gentleman would say."

"Or maybe just a fine lookin' gentleman."

"Maybe." Summer looked up at him, glad she made her first friend since arriving at Beacon Hills.

He looked at their hands, gripping each other firmly. He felt the want – the need – to let go and instead pull her tight against him, embracing her. But looking at her other hand – her left hand – he noticed a faded, thin line wrapping across her ring finger. His breathing constricted and he felt a painful pounding on his chest. His vision blurred as he felt the wolf try to claw its way to the surface, angry and wanting to shred something, to make something bleed.

"You're married," he bluntly said, emotionless. The wolf wanted to hunt her husband down and devour him.

She gave him a pained smile. "Engaged." She tossed the empty cup into the trashcan and walked away from him to her suitcase. Summer pulled a photo from the bottom and handed it to him. "_Was_ engaged." Her eyes watered and Derek wanted to kiss every drop.

Summer sat on the chair, resting her head against her hand.

He looked at the photo. Summer and a man were at a beach. The waves were high and the man was carrying her on his back, hoisting her above the water. Her head was back, laughing. The man, Summer's fiancé, was looking at her over his shoulder. Despite being just a photo, Derek could see the love in the man's eyes. "What happened?"

"He was killed." She wiped away her tears.

He stared at her, wishing he could do something to take the pain away.

"John was in the Marine Corps. A brave man. Came back home, said he wanted to grow old with me, then a month later, he got shot."

She took the picture from his hands and gingerly held it. "There was a robbery at a convenient store. One of the guys was 'bout to shoot a young boy. John pushed him out of the way and took the bullet instead." Summer looked at Derek, eyes red and wet. "One of his friends would always remind me, 'You can take a man out of the Marines, but you can't the Marine out of the man.' "

Derek took a step forward, wanting to hold her and brush the tears away.

"Part of me hated everyone after that. Didn't know people but I blamed 'em for his death. He volunteered to protect the people but he comes back home to no job, hallucinations, violent protestors, and murder. Family and friends told me to leave him but I couldn't. I wanted to be with him forever."

She laughed, dryly. "I'm sorry. This is embarrassin'. Didn't mean to cry in front of you."

"No," Derek said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Don't be embarrassed." He gathered the courage and pulled her into his arms, holding her tight against his chest. He wanted to be jealous. To hate the man who had her love first. At least, that's what the wolf wanted. But for some reason, Derek couldn't.

* * *

"Yeah," Scott said, nervous. "You're not going to, you know..."

"Tell?" Chris said. "I can't really go up to Lydia's mom and say, 'Scott stole your necklace. But we need it to save the world.' Can't have any more people know about the Supernatural world." He looked at the necklace under a microscope, trying to find some kind of opening he could stick the knife into, prying it open.

"Hahaha... Yeah..."

Allison rolled her eyes. Even after Chris told Scott he was in the good books and gave him permission to date his daughter, Scott was still nervous around the Argents - particularly her parents. "Scott, relax," she laughed. "I can literally swim in this tension." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, interlocking her fingers behind his head. "Calm. Down."

"Please, don't bang in front of me," Chris said, poking and prodding the casing with the another tool.

"Oh my god, Dad!" Allison gasped, mortified.

Scott pushed Allison away from him, face red.

"Dad, I can't believe you just said that!"

"What?" Chris said, looking up from his work. "Isn't that what you teenagers say these days? 'Bang'? "

She stared at him in disbelief. "Do you even know what that word means?" She grabbed Scott's hand and said, "Come on" while rushing out of the study. "I think Mom came back with the pizza." She ignored her father's laughter and burst into the kitchen, surprising her mother.

"Don't barge in. It's unlady - like," Victoria scolded.

"You would, too, if Dad embarrassed you."

"What did he do this time?"

"He said 'bang', " Allison groaned, slouching in the chair.

Scott laughed. "Now that I think about it, it was actually _really_ funny." He pulled a slice onto a plate, mouth watering at the sight of thick, melting cheese. "Thanks, Mrs. Argent."

"What did you say?" Victoria asked, looking at him with her brows raised.

"Victoria," he said. "Thanks, Victoria."

"Better."

* * *

"Hey, Marcus. It's me, Chris." He turned the necklace around in his hand before pouring himself a glass of scotch. "I got a problem. Call me back." He hung up, sighed, drank his scotch, and put the necklace in his safe. The death toll was rising. Tomorrow, it could be him, Victoria, Allison... This black fog, whatever it is, was bringing an emotion he hated; fear.

He walked over to his shelf filled with ancient books, texts, scrolls, pictures. Since the black fog hit the news, he had spent everyday searching through every documented piece on the Supernatural, reading, rereading, rereading again. He even spent thousands of dollars buying items online - most of them were fake. _"What the hell are you?" _Chris decided it wasn't related to shapeshifters - the were species and others. Nor was it related to vampires or witches. He glanced at himself in the mirror and the big dark circles under his eyes, red and burning from lack of sleep.

He leaned his head against the shelf. Maybe it was time to let bygones be bygones and call his estranged cousin in South Dakota. Chris may be a hunter but Bobby Singer was a better hunter. A _much_ better hunter. Chris knew about werewolves, vampires, and witches. Hell, even as a child, Chris would go with his family to hunt them. But Bobby believed in more. Sure, he believed in what Chris did, but Bobby also believed in zombies, fairies, shtrigas, and changelings.

Chris felt guilt. He remember trying to convince Bobby the Supernatural existed but Bobby never listened. And then, after Bobby's wife was killed, Bobby tried to convince Chris there was more to the Supernatural. But that time Chris didn't listen.

He walked over to the telephone, preparing to dial the number he could never forget, but stopped. He couldn't. Not after what happened that night.

_"What the fuck are you doing?" Chris shouted._

_"You don't understand. There are more things out there than just weres and vampires and witches." Bobby dumping the salt around the two of them, and again, and again in a circle. "There can't be any breaks. No gaps. None. None." He grabbed a fire poker and tossed it to Chris. "It'll keep you safe. Trust me, Chris. It'll keep you safe. You gotta be safe."_

_"Bobby, shut up!" He threw the poker back at Bobby who looked at him, incredulous._

_"No! You need to use this as a weapon! It hates iron!" _

_"Bobby, calm down! What the hell is going on?"_

_The lights flickered before shutting off. The wind was howling, rain was pouring, and thunder was the loudest Chris has ever heard. _

_"No, no, no. It's here," he whispered, eyes wide with fear. He held out the poker in front of him, waving it around._

_"Bobby. Look at me! What's here?"_

_"The demon."_

Chris groaned, rubbing his forehead to ease the splitting pain between his eyes. That was the night Chris left home. After years of putting with his cousin's hallucinations and ridiculous stories, he pack his things and left. As Chris walked to his car, he heard a shout inside the house but he was so upset he didn't go back in.

It wasn't until five years later that Chris knew Bobby was telling the truth all along. Chris had been out for a run when he saw something... a human - like freak dragging bodies into the forest while gnawing on a severed arm. He spent months researching, trying to identify what the monster was until finally he found it - Wendigo. And then he knew. He knew that everything Bobby tried to tell him was the truth.

Chris slammed his hands against the desk. "Come on," he said, gritting. "Just call him, goddammit."

He yanked the phone up, dialed Bobby's number, and held his breath as he heard the ringing. One ring, two ring, third, fourth._  
_

"Who the hell is this?" a gruff voice said.

Chris could feel sweat trickle down his face. Biting his tongue, he sighed, figuring it was too late to chicken out. "It's me."

Nervousness crept up his back as silence was on the other side. "... Chris?"

* * *

Stiles jolted up, awake from his nap. His neck hurt from being at an awkward angle. "Ah, note to self. Never sleep in a chair again." Stiles stood up, stretching and wincing at his sore muscles. He was about to walk out of his room when he heard a voice downstairs. He froze. His dad was still at work... wasn't even coming home at all until tomorrow afternoon.

He panicked. Stiles crept towards his door and peeked out. "Hello?" he called out, afraid. "Dad?"

He reached over his hamper and took out his lacrosse stick. Holding it in front of him, he tip - toed down the hall and down the stairs, flinching as his foot pressed down on the squeaky step. _"Shit!" _

His mouth dried as he heard the intruder's whispers stop. _"Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck!"_ He saw a shadow stretch forward, coming around the corner, and he held his breath.

"Sto-aaahhhh-p!" he screamed as he jumped the last few steps and spun around the corner, stick high above his head before swinging it down.

"What the -" a voice shouted.

Stiles felt his lacrosse stick get yanked but he struggled to keep hold of it.

"Stiles!"

He opened his eyes, not realizing that he had kept them shut the entire time. "Ly... Lydia?" he said, panting.

She glowered at him. "Yes, you moron! Who did you think I was?"

He stared at her, mouth opening and closing foolishly. "Uh... Gee, I don't know. Maybe a robber? One of the crazies my dad arrests coming to get revenge? What the hell are you doing here?"

She shook her hair back and tossed him his lacrosse stick. "I was bored." Lydia straightened her dress and looked at him, expectantly. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"I'm hungry!"

"Oh! Okay. That's cool." Stiles was confused. "So... Why are you here?"

She rolled her eyes before taking Stiles' phone from his pocket, ignoring his shout of surprise. "I'm ordering pizza for dinner."

Stiles watched as Lydia walked away towards the kitchen. "Hi. I want pizza with olives, peppers, extra cheese, and..."

When he was sure she was out of view, dropped the stick and jumped in the air, fists high above him "I got a date!"

He flushed when he heard Lydia shout from the kitchen, "I heard that. And it's not a date."

* * *

**Just want to say... This is not a crossover. I just wanted to use Bobby Singer from Supernatural as a minor reference. He'll only be mentioned in this chapter and the next. ):**


	4. Chapter 4

**I get so happy seeing MRAFs. (: (message, reviews, alerts, favorites)**

**I know I said this is not a cross over... And it's not. I'm not going to have the Winchesters throughout the entire story. It'll only be just this chapter and next. I don't want them to hunt the fog because knowing them, it's probably going to take just days. But if it's just days, then this story will be very short. ):**

**I don't want to mention names but thanks to those who MRAFed! And here's your Sam and Dean in Beacon Hills and your Derek/Anna interaction (:**

**MRAF, please!**

* * *

_She cried out in pain. "What's happening?" An agonizing shudder ripped through her body and she collapsed. She wished she had a gun to shoot herself with… kill herself because the pain was just too much. "Daddy," she whispered, wishing he was still alive to hold her, to care for her. _

_Another wave of anguish. She sobbed, curling into a ball. "Stop. God, please, stop!"_

_She looked up and saw the moon. The full moon._

_A blinding flash of pain. She shut her eyes, trying to not think about the torture. Was she dying? _

_Anna screamed and she felt her body get taken over by something… beastly._

_She opened her eyes. Thirsty. She heard the trickle of a stream somewhere and she rushed towards it. Her throat tightened as she saw the clear, delicious water flow. She leaned towards it, to drink._

_She howled in fright. That… That wasn't her. That wasn't her reflection. That was a… A monster._

* * *

He groaned in pleasure as she pressed her fingers against his stiff back, smoothing the soreness away.

"Stop," he whispered when she traced the tip of his ear with her tongue. He shivered.

"Stop what?" she asked, coyly, in her British accent. She ran her hands down his back, bringing them in front of him. She pressed her body against and reached down to tug at his belt.

He bit back a moan and he hardened as Anna moved to face him, wrapping her bare legs around his waist. His eyes widened, thrilled. Somehow while massaging his shoulders, she had taken off her shirt. And now she was exposed to him. Only him.

She brushed her lips against his and whispered, "Don't. Don't hold back." She laughed as Derek shifted, trying to ease the pressure against his length. She unbuckled his belt and slowly unbuttoned and unzipped. Pulling him out, she teasingly scolded, "Don't make me wait."

He growled. He hoisted her up, her legs still around him, and walked impatiently to the bed. He tripped over his jeans which had dropped to his feet. He stumbled onto the floor. "Shit," Derek said, looking at her, worried. "Are you –"

She pressed her lips to his chest. "Just take me here."

He stared at her. Derek didn't want to make love to her on the floor. She deserved so much better than that. But the fragrance of her arousal was too strong. He slipped his fingers inside, loving the expression she made. He stroked her gently, listening to her gasps. He could listen to that all night.

He couldn't take it anymore. She was so hot and wet… The wolf howled, about to dominate its _mate_.

Derek opened his eyes. He scowled. That was the ninth time he dreamt about Anna. Anna, the woman he didn't even know. But he felt like he did. At least, that's what he thought when he thought about her laugh. _"That laugh…"_ He ran a hand through his hair before noticing an enjoyable throb between his legs. He looked down at it. "You got to be fucking kidding me."

He stormed into the shower, glad he had finally fixed the plumbing in his burned house. He didn't want to have to drive to a hotel for a cold shower while having an erection.

Derek was rinsing the soap and shampoo when his thoughts wandered to Summer. The Southern beauty, lightly tanned skin with the long brown hair, brown eyes, wonderful heart, and amazing laugh.

Then he froze, shocked. Anna's laugh. Anna, the British woman with the pale skin and jet black hair, dark brown eyes, beautiful smile, and... amazing laugh.

_Anna and Summer were the same person._

* * *

"What do you want?" Bobby said. Part of him was glad Chris called. After all, they were inseparable their entire lives. Until _that_ _night_. The other part of him wanted to curse him out and hang up.

Chris sighed. "I need… I need help."

"So did I, you good-for-nothing idjit. Years ago. But you just left. I was attacked and I called for you but you left. So why should I help you?"

"Because," Chris stopped. Bobby was right. Why should he help Chris when Chris just slammed the door and walked away?

"I'm sorry, alright?" Chris said. "Honestly. I'm sorry. I should have believed you but I didn't. And I can't change that but I believe you now."

"To hell with your sorry. And I don't give a rat's ass if you believe me or not," Bobby spat. "Don't call again."

Chris flinched as he heard his cousin slam the phone down, hanging up. He listened to the dial tone and shut the phone. He swallowed some more scotch and leaned back in his chair. Rubbing his eyes, he looked back at his phone wondering why Marcus hadn't called him back yet. Marcus always answers his phone. If not, he calls back within seconds.

The phone rang and Chris knocked over his glass, spilling the dark amber liquid across his desk, soaking his papers. "Shit."

"Hello?" he said, hoping it was Marcus. Hoping even more it was Bobby.

"Cut the bullshit. Tell me what you want," Bobby said.

Chris sighed, relieved. "Okay. There's this black fog seen everywhere on the west coast. But it's only here, nowhere else. It's killing people. They're just walking around aimlessly for days and then having seizures before dying. None of us know anything about it except we need a stone which will help us. We have that stone. But it's locked in a necklace and we can't even get it out."

Chris waited for Bobby to say something.

"I'll look around, ask questions," Bobby said. "Give me a few days."

Before Chris could say thanks, Bobby hung up.

* * *

He didn't want to spy on her, but he had to. He had too many questions without answers. Who is she, where is she from, why is she lying, is she hiding from something… someone.

He parked his Camaro in front of Jubilee's. The diner was empty. Perfect opportunity. He walked inside and sat at the front counter.

Summer was eating a plate of strawberry crepes, drizzled with chocolate and topped with banana slices. She saw Derek and smiled. "Want somethin' to eat?"

Derek looked at her. He couldn't. He didn't want to. But he had to. So he shut his eyes, not wanting to see her hurt as he accuses her of… of what? Of lying? Summer probably had her reasons for lying and Derek had no right to know but he wanted to. He wanted to know everything about her starting with her real name.

He shut his eyes and said, "No, I'm good… Anna."

There. He said it. Now all he had to do was wait to see her reaction. If she looked confused, then he was wrong. If she looked shocked, afraid, then he was right.

He opened his eyes and studied her face.

He was right.

* * *

Chris walked to the front door. _"Who's knocking at 3 a.m. in the morning?"_ He opened the door.

"Chris Argent?" the taller man said.

"Yes?"

The two men glanced at each other. "We were around the neighborhood when we got a call from a mutual friend."

Chris stared at them, frowning at their disheveled appearance. "Excuse me, but I don't think we have _any _ mutual friends."

The shorter man made a face, not liking the snide tone. "Listen, you –"

"Ah," the taller man said, interrupted the other man. He knew Chris was pissed at being disturbed at this time and he didn't want to piss him off more. "Uh, Bobby Singer sent us."

* * *

"How – how – " Summer stuttered, eyes wide with fear. She looked around, cursing silently at realizing that there were no customers and that it was her turn to run the diner into the afternoon. So Filipe was gone.

She bolted towards the kitchen, bile rising up her throat as she heard Derek leap over the counter and race after her. She grabbed a large knife and spun around to face him. "Stay away!" she screamed, trembling.

He stopped, noticing Summer's sudden change in accent – from Southern to British.

"Calm down. _Anna_, put down the knife," he whispered, slowly inching towards her with his hands raised above his head. He didn't want to startle her more.

"No!" She gripped the handle tighter and kept it pointed at him. "My – my name is _Summer_. You – you stay away or I'll cut you!"

"Alright! _Summer._" Derek looked around trying to find if there was a way for her to escape. None. "You're _Summer_. I got it. Summer, put down the knife." Another step forward. He sighed in relief when she didn't notice he was edging closer.

"How'd you find me? Huh?" she shouted. "How?"

Now or never.

He jumped, tackling Summer down to the cold floor. She screamed, trying to slash at him. Derek grabbed her wrist and slammed the hand holding the knife hard against the tiles. He hated himself at that moment. For hurting Summer.

She cried out in pain and tried to kick him off, her free hand clawing at his face. He knocked the knife across the kitchen and pinned her other wrist down and trapped her legs with his.

He wanted to die. He didn't mean to scare her, to make her cry.

"Look at me!" he said, wanting her to open her eyes, to show him those beautiful eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you, Summer. I promise."

* * *

The silence was uncomfortable.

Chris offered the two brothers drinks which they accepted. And now they were staring at each other, awkwardly.

"Why does Bobby hate you?"

"Dean!"

"What? We deserve to know," Dean said to Sam. He slammed the glass down and got up, walking slowly towards Chris. "Bobby never mentioned you until today. And he said your name all pissy."

"Dean," Sam warned, wary of Dean's tone.

"Shut it, Sam." He looked at Chris. "What did you do to make _the_ Bobby Singer so mad?"

"Listen, it doesn't matter –"

"Yeah, it does, Sam. It does matter. 'Cause it depends whether or not we agree to help you, Chris." He glared at the older man. "So I'll ask you one more time. What did you do?"

Chris looked back at Dean. He sighed and finished his drink. "Bobby told me there was more to the Supernatural than I believed. Thought he was full of shit so I left him. I left him and in the meantime he was getting attacked by a _demon_." He poured more scotch. "So now you know. And now I gotta ask. Are you going to help me or what?"

* * *

**Hope I got Bobby, Dean, and Sam as accurate as possible (:**

**But get ready with your goodbyes 'cause they might leave next chapter... unfortunately. ):**


	5. Chapter 5

**Whoa... Twice in one day! I've been crunching these chapters out. Once I start typing, I can't seem to stop.**

**To clarify: Anna/Summer is _not _Derek's cousin. They're not related. **

* * *

_Anna was impatient. And frightened. She wanted the old lady to look at her, to tell her it was possible. Ever since she discovered what she was, she tried to distance herself from people. But after each change, she'd find herself covered with blood, a full stomach, and a mauled body beneath her. _

_Disgusting._

_"It's possible," the lady said, looking up from the dusty scroll._

_Anna cried, happy. So happy. _

_All she had to do was to wait for the next blue moon and perform the ritual. Then, she'd be free._

* * *

Derek placed a mug of hot chocolate in front of her. He made it exactly the way his mom did.

"So," he said, "you can't tell me anything. Or you _won't_."

Summer sighed, looking away. She wrapped her fingers around the steaming drink.

"I'm so sorry, Derek." She took a sip. Delicious. "I - I just _can't_."

Derek took her hand, interlocking their fingers together.

"It's not that I don't trust you. I do." She squeezed his hand. She liked his touches. "But it's too soon for me."

Derek nodded, understanding. When his family was burned alive in his own home, he was so consumed with grief and anger that he lost his humanity and became the wolf. He left Beacon Hills. He left California, America... Went where ever the wolf wanted to go, did whatever it wanted. Finally, one night, he woke up from his own prison. He was starving, bloody, and... somehow ended up in Britain. He remembered freaking out when he saw a girl laying face down. He had attacked her. Derek didn't want to be with her when she woke up so he quickly ran away, leaving her alone, bleeding.

He contacted Laura and she demanded to know what he had been doing since disappearing. But he couldn't tell her. He didn't want to. He didn't want to admit to the horrors he had done.

"Maybe one day. I'll tell you everything." Summer felt Derek pull her into his arms. She liked his hugs.

She breathed deeply, trying to memorize the scent on Derek's clothes. "My daddy had a contact in Atlanta. So I visited him. Got fake papers, name, took a crash course in being a typical Georgian woman, and then came here to Beacon Hills."

Summer wrapped her arms around Derek, not wanting to let go. "But, Derek. Please... Please don't tell anyone who I am. Please don't tell anyone I'm here."

Derek tightened his hold on her. "I won't. I would never do that." He closed his eyes, loving how she felt pressed against him, her scent…

"I'll protect you," he whispered to her.

* * *

"It's a swamp gas?"

Sam nodded. "Latin name is _Ignis Fatuus_."

"How the hell did I not figure that out?"

"Well, you were looking in the wrong places. Will 'o the wisp is not part of were, vamp, witch myths. You just had to broaden your search. Plus, we've been doing this our whole lives."

"Yeah, so have I."

"No offense, Chris, but we're _supernatural_ hunters," Dean said, biting into his ham sandwich. "You're just a… wermpitch hunter." He chuckled. "Get it? 'Wermpitch'? Were, vamp, wi -"

"Yeah, Dean, we get it," Sam said, exasperated. "Another hunter was already on the west coast investigating the _Fatuus_ so we ignored the whole business." He jabbed a fork into his salad and ate. "But months passed and there was no progress. So we decided to stop by after a hunt in Arizona just to check in on Marcus who wasn't responding to -"

"Wait," Chris interrupted. "Marcus was a supernatural hunter? You know Marcus?" He was confused. His mind went back to the day they first met. Now that he thought about it, meeting Marcus was _so_ random that it was… as if Marcus had been waiting for Chris at that gas station.

He felt guilty, realizing that all these years Bobby never did give up on Chris even after _that night_. Still considered him his cousin that he sent one of his hunting friends to keep an eye on him.

"Knew," Dean said, snapping Chris back to the present.

"What?"

"Knew. Marcus is dead. Sucked in one of those wispy things."

Chris closed his eyes, sad and upset. He lost a lot of friends, a lot of hunters. But Marcus' death hit him the most. Probably because he'll never get the chance to tell him how much he valued their friendship.

* * *

"Derek's not going to like this," Jackson groaned as Erica grind up against him.

"Shut up and just fuck me," she snapped.

He glared at her. "Don't tell me what to do." He pushed himself deeper into her, smirking as Erica shouted in pleasure. He could feel her walls pulse around him. Hot and slick.

His phone rang. "Shit!" he spat, reaching for his cell.

"Don't you fucking answer that," she said, menacingly. She dug her nails into his thighs, feeling blood trickled down to the back of her hand. "I swear to God, Jackson, if you answer that –"

"Shut up," he said, pushing her hands away. "And stop cutting into me." He looked at the screen and growled at the I.D. "Dammit, Stiles. What is it?"

_"I need a ride."_

"What?"

_"I said I –"_

"I know what you said!" He shuddered as he felt Erica clench around him. He moaned.

_"What the… Aw, man, what the hell? Are you having sex while talking to me?"_

He saw her grin. "You bitch. You did that on purpose," he mouthed to her. She winked and pulled him out. She held him in her hands and ran her tongue against his hardness. He jerked as a wave of pleasure crashed over him.

"Alright. I'll be there in five."

_"Ah, thanks, man. But don't forget to –"_

Jackson shut his phone and tossed it aside.

He thrust into her mouth, growling as she sucked harder. "You use your teeth again I swear I'm gonna -"

Erica shoved him down, straddling him. "No teeth. No nails. No fun." She pouted. She grabbed his length and teased her entrance with it.

"Goddammit, Erica. I don't have time for this." He grabbed her hips and shoved himself inside her, deep.

* * *

"So it says here that the _Fatuum _likes to mislead travelers into marshes and are associated with dead people. Tolkien mentions them, Rowling, and so does this woman... Holly Black. Milton compares Satan to the Wisp when he tempts Eve into eating the fruit. And according to Wolfgang von Goethe's The Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily, they like gold," Sam said, summarizing the website.

"Who doesn't?" Dean said, browsing through Chris' library.

The younger brother rolled his eyes at Dean. "Anyways, from what's in our Dad's journals and Bobby's records, the_ Fatuum _is not really _just that_."

"Of course. Since when is the good ol' internet more than _just that_."

"Shut up. It's a black fog, obviously. And reading the dead people's files and interviewing their families, they were all in either Alcoholics or Narcotics Anonymous." Sam read the papers. "I'm guessing the Wisps enter these people and try to stop them from getting clean."

"Only they're not doing that," Chris said. "They're killing them."

"Yeah. And I know how the Wisps are finding them."

"How?" Dean asked.

"They were all carrying the coins you get after you pass a step."

"So?"

"So... I took a closer look at them. Using a UV light. And guess what?"

"Oh, Sam, please. The suspense is killing me," Dean said, sarcastic.

"They all had the same symbol in invisible ink. I think that's what's attracting the Wisps. So someone is handing these enchanted coins to members. That could explain why the black fog is only appearing on this coast."

"How do we kill them?" Chris asked.

"Dragon tears."

Chris stared at Sam. "_Dragon_?"

"Yeah."

"They're... They're real?"

"Kinda..." Sam drank his beer. "Anyways, the tears have to be hardened by age. Becomes a stone. All you have to do is grind it to powder and then burn it. The smell will lure the Wisps from miles away to the flames where they'll burn. And then die. Simple really."

"And is opening this necklace simple, too?" Chris asked, sarcastic.

"Yeah, that. I called a friend who's a... Dragon specialist... and she says you need... uh... the 'saliva of a healed human'. "

They all looked at each other, confused. "Are you sure she said saliva? Maybe she -"

"No, Chris. Saliva. Definitely saliva."

"And what did she meant by healed human?"

"Healed human. Someone who was cursed by a Supernatural. But then cured."

* * *

"You're Summer. _Summer_," she whispered to her reflection. "Anna's gone. You're Summer."

She combed through her damp her with her fingers and wrapped a large towel around herself. "Summer. Summer. Summer."

She glanced at the calendar by her bed. "It's a full moon tonight." She tied her hair back. "Summer. Summer. Summer." Every time before she slept, she repeated her new name. A mantra. To remind herself that she's no longer Anna. She's Summer.

She put on her nightgown and climbed into bed. "Summer. Summer. Summer. _Human_."

She listened the the music drifting in from the room next to hers.

"Nothing to worry about," she said. "I'm cured."

* * *

**What do you guys think of the Will o' the wisps? **

**If you guys have any questions, suggestions, or... even... flames (I hope not! ): )... let me know!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Each time I log on I see more MRAFs ****(message, review, alert, favorite)**! And more hits! Thanks to all of you (:

**Dean and Sam have left Beacon Hills ): But who knows? Maybe they'll return. And maybe next time they come, they'll meet some werewolves they will like.**

**Here's chapter 6 "ya'll"****! (I wish I was Southern. I just _love _those accents!)**

**This is a slow chapter but has some Derek/Summer bonding time. The next chapter might have some action.**

**And as soon as the kanima was revealed, I was, like... Oh my gosh. And I have so many questions! Like, Danny, the mysterious driver, the "photographer"... Oh, geez... Hahahaha**

* * *

Chris sighed. He looked at the sobriety coin the Winchesters had stolen from the evidence locker. Maybe he was crazy, maybe not. But he decided to walk around tonight with that coin in his pocket. After all, where was he going to find a cured human?

He wished the two brothers had stayed. They were so much more prepared for this than he was. But duty called and they left for Florida that morning with a backpack full of Victoria's sandwiches and a bottle of Chris' favorite Kentucky Whiskey.

_"Tell Bobby I say hi," he told them, walking them to their car._

_Dean shook his head. "I think maybe you should call him. Tell him yourself."_

Chris glanced at his phone. Fingers itching to pick it up and call his cousin. _"No. I'll call him after this Wisp is killed."_

He raised his glass of scotch and muttered, "To Marcus…"

He stared at a faded photograph he pulled out yesterday from an old shoe box filled with photos with past memories. He looked at the two faces, both holding hunting rifles out in the woods. So happy, carefree. _"I wonder if Bobby still wears that goddamn cap."_

"… To old times."

* * *

Derek smiled as he watched Summer twirl in front of the mirror. She had that smile on her face. The one he loved to see. _"I'd do anything to see that smile every day." _He leaned against the wall and coughed, signaling his presence.

She jumped, surprised. "Derek! You ain't s'posed to be in here!" She ducked behind the curtains of the changing room, abashed.

"Sorry," he said. He tucked his hands in his pockets. "I got bored out front."

"I told you not to come! But you –"

"Insisted. Yeah. But exploring a new town is no fun when you're alone." Derek had bumped into Summer on her way out of the diner. Her shift had ended and she wanted to go shop for some clothes. He was disappointed, thinking today would be a Summer – less day, but as soon as she said she would be roaming Beacon Hills, he quickly offered to keep her company.

"So you're my tour guide, then? Alright. So, Mr. Hale, do tell me. Where is the best place to eat a gyro? 'Cause I've been cravin' 'em since I got to Beacon Hills."

"Do you ever think of anything else besides food?"

"Yes…" she said, stepping out with a floral dress. "Clothes, cars, readin'… uh, food, haha…" She walked to the register, Derek following her. "Oh, and sex," she casually said, hiding a smile.

Derek choked at hearing the last word. "W – what?"

"Oh, you heard me," she said, laughing. She paid for her new dress and walked out of the store, leaving a stunned Derek behind.

* * *

"I don't like it," Victoria said. She pushed Chris away when he tried to hold her. "Just grab that Hale boy and cure him. Then use his damn spit to open that damn necklace."

"I can't do that," Chris said, chuckling. "We're allies. Besides, I don't think he'll count because he's not _really _cursed. He was born into it."

"Then… Scott! He's always dreaming about being cured. So cure him and then –"

"With what? I don't know how to – _no one _know how to cure Supernaturals."

"But do _you_ have to do it? Give the coin to someone else and let them endanger themselves."

"No," he said, firmly. "No. I'm going to do this. It's been almost a year and so many have died. I gotta end this."

* * *

Summer laughed as the puppy tried to jump into her arms and lick her face. "Oh, he's so adorable!"

"Yes, he is," the man said. He had a huge box with four puppies scampering around, playing with their toys. "He's a Beagle. They all are. Except for this bundle of joy – a Labrador."

Summer looked at the small Lab gnawing at Pikachu. "A bundle of joy," she repeated. She reached into the box and tenderly picked up the puppy. "Aw, my goodness. You're just so perfect." She giggled as the Lab yawned in her face.

"He's a quiet one. Don't make much noise at all. Just dozing in the background, minding his own business. All shy and such."

Derek watched as Summer played with the pup. _"She'd be a good mate," _he thought. He shook his head, embarrassed. _"I sound like a creep."_

"Yours for a hundred fifty," the man told Summer.

She hesitated, not sure if she had that much with her.

"Congratulations," he said.

She looked at him, confused. "But I –"

She stared, surprised, as Derek handed the man the cash and took the Lab from her arms. He thanked the man and walked away.

Summer followed, silently, disappointed. She had planned to ask the man to keep the Lab aside so she could come tomorrow with the money. "I didn't know you wanted him."

Derek looked at her and smiled at the bummed expression on her face. "It's not for me." He stopped, turned to face her. "Consider this is welcoming gift." He had a boyish grin on his face. "Welcome to Beacon Hills," he said, enjoying her look of surprise and joy.

* * *

"Why are we sneaking in?" Derek whispered a little too loud.

" 'Cause pets ain't allowed," she said, quietly, trying to hold onto Bashful as he squirmed and wiggled under her shirt. She giggled. "Oh, the furry babe is ticklin' me!"

Derek snorted, amused, as he unlocked the motel door. She rushed inside and Bashful jumped out of her arms and pounced on the floor. He dumped her bags onto the table and turned on the light, closing the door behind him. "How are you going to keep Bash quiet while you're at work?"

She started to hang her clothes in the closet. "I'll take him with me to Jube's. Filipe won't mind."

He chuckled as Bashful started to sniff around the room, curious. "Don't forget. He's my responsibility, too. So ask if you ever need help."

He felt his phone vibrate.

"Yeah, Scott," Derek said, after glancing at the ID.

_"You need to get over here. We're at the Argents."_

"I'll be there in 5."

Derek shut his phone and looked at Summer. "Hey, I gotta go."

She followed him as he walked towards the door. "Thanks, Derek. For keepin' me company. I really 'preciate it," she said, leaning against the door frame. Summer felt Bashful nudge her foot with his wet nose. "And for Bash. Even though you didn't need to."

"I wanted to," he said.

They stood facing each other for a few more seconds. She looked at him, curious, like she knew Derek wanted to ask her something. His chest started to pound and he was almost about to turn around and run to his car. _"Do it."_

He leaned forward, hesitant. His eyes flashed down to her lips and back to her dark, brown eyes. "Can I – can I kiss you?"

She smiled and took a small step closer to him. "You don't have to ask," she whispered, tilting her head up.

He leaned down and quickly pressed his lips to hers, sighing in relief that he finally is able touch her so intimately. He wrapped his arms around Summer, pulling her close to him. Derek gently bit her lower lip and he could have sworn he passed out for a second when he heard her moan. She opened her mouth, letting him explore her with his tongue. He loved the way she tasted, felt, the way her tongue teasingly stroked his. His hand roamed lower, down her back. His fingers brushed the exposed skin between her jeans and shirt and he went crazy feeling her soft skin.

"Derek!"

He flinched. _"Fucking hell."_ None of that happened.

She looked at him, concerned. "You must be exhausted walkin' 'round all day." She placed a hand on his arm. "You go get some sleep, please?"

He nodded, dazed. _"Do it... No."_

"Yeah, so, I'll stop by your work tomorrow," he said, in a rush to leave. He knew if he stayed a second longer, he'd lose his control of the beast.

"Yeah, you do that," she said. "But get some rest 'fore you do."

He turned around and almost ran to his Camaro. "Goddamn." He yanked the door open, got in, and slammed it shut. He watched Summer as she shut her room door. "Keep it together, Derek."

* * *

**Don't hesitate to tell me when my content/writing starts to suck! But I hope it doesn't...**

**And don't hesitate to MRAF!**

**This was slow, sorry 'bout that. But the next is definitely going have some kind of fighting involved. Just don't know if it's going to be about the Wisps or about Summer.**

**Peace!**


	7. Chapter 7

**So, I re-watched Venomous and realized that the kanima from the garage and the pool is different from Jackson kanima. The gp kanima is kinda green and j kanima is kinda blue. But that might be because of the light.**

**And I know I promised there would be a fight in this... But I have to get this out of the way first. Think of this chapter like... the door to the room. **

**I just wanted to get Chris in a pickle to make him irrational and desperate. Because irrational and desperate people make scary decisions. ):**

**Anyways... Please leave a message, review, alert, favorite! (:**

* * *

"Dude, it's 3 pm. We've been waiting for 5 hours," Stiles grumbled. "My legs are numb from crouching, I'm about to fall asleep, and some bug – " he slapped the back of his neck " – keeps biting me."

Derek held his breath, trying to calm himself. Stiles had been constantly complaining and making so much noise. He wondered if it was _Stiles's_ fault that nothing was happening. "Keep annoying me, I dare you. And it won't be the bug bites you'll be worried about. It'll be _mine_."

Stiles looked at Derek and shuffled backwards, away from him. "Sorry. Sorry. My lips are sealed."

"Don't say that."

"Why not?"

"Because it gives me false hope every time I hear it," Derek said with a serious tone. "And we both know your lips will _not _be sealed."

Stiles smiled nervously.

"Unless I knock you out with my fists."

Derek's phone vibrated. "Yeah," he answered.

_"Think we should call it off?"_ Scott asked. _"Go home and come back again tomorrow?"_

Derek quickly skimmed the surroundings. Nothing. Nothing except Chris pacing on the high school field, slightly agitated. "Alright. Let's call it off. Go back, relook everything. Maybe we missed something."

He shut his phone and got up.

"Ah, finally!" Stiles shouted, stretching, and moaning in pain. "Ugh… I'm gonna be so sore when I wake up in the morning." He yawned obnoxiously. "I'm heading home. See you later."

"No. No, you're not." Derek gave him a pointed look. "We have to review all the files again. And again. And again. Until we find something that we didn't notice before."

"Whaaa?"

"This should've worked, but it didn't," Derek said, walking towards his car. "Obviously, we missed something. So get in your car, pop some caffeine pills, and meet us at the Argents."

* * *

"I don't get it," Jackson said. "Why do _I _have to be here, helping you guys?"

"Because, Lizard weirdo, the Wisps concern you, too," Stiles said.

"Stop calling me that."

"Yeah, sure... Lizard weirdo."

"Okay, _dropping_ _the lizard topic_. Why am I here? Why can't you guys deal with this?"

"You're a Supernatural. We need all the help we can get," Chris said, studying the reports. He was beyond frustrated. Month after month after month. People were dying and they still didn't have _anything_. He poured himself a glass of scotch. He didn't care that his vision was getting blurred, that he was dizzy, that he felt like dropping to the ground, wasted.

"Wait, guys," Scott said. "I think I got something."

Everyone looked at him, attentive and waiting.

"It's in the witnesses' reports." Scott pulled them out of the files and passed them around. "In each of them, a few witnesses claimed they saw the victims slip up at least a week before their deaths."

"They're humans," Allison said. "Not all of us are strong enough to –"

"And maybe _that's _it. Someone's been giving the coins to Anonymous members who have slipped. To punish them."

Silence. Everyone read the papers, realizing that Scott was right.

"So, any of us used to be a druggie or an alcoholic?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah, I'm looking right at one," Derek joked, with a serious look.

"Wait, what?"

"Don't lie to me. I see you popping those Adderalls like it's nobody's business."

"That's because it _is _nobody's business. And I'm not addicted to them."

"You know what they say."

"What?"

"About denial."

"Okay. Well, now we're in deep shit. We don't know anyone in Beacon Hills who is aware of the Supernaturals and has had an addiction," Jackson complained. He leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes that were aching from all the reading.

"He's right," Allison said. "And we don't have enough time to call for outside help. _And _we don't know any cured Supernaturals. And we don't know _how_ to cure them."

Chris slammed his hands against the wall he was leaning on. Time was ticking. More people were dying – both humans and non. He finished another glass and poured another glass. He was losing hope. They all were. Finding a hunter with skeletons in the closet would take too much time. The only option left was to find a _cured_. Or a _cure_. He had to. Failure is not an option.

* * *

_"Are you ready?"_

_Anna closed her eyes. The past years she felt so strong, so… free. And, to be honest, she loved it. She loved the fear on people's faces when she fought back, when she hurt them more than they hurt her. She loved the rush of wind as she sprinted through the forest, scenery blurring together. _

_But she was a monster._

_She opened her eyes, determined._

_"Yes," she told the warlock. _

_She watched him pull out a cellphone from his pocket and dial a number. "Hey, are you here yet?"_

_Anna smiled. A man of ancient magic using a cellphone was amusing._

_Another man walked into the room. An old priest. "I'm right here."_

_Anna panicked. "Why's a priest here?" Were they going to kill her? She just wanted to be cured, not killed. "Are you going to kill me?"_

_"No," the warlock said, trying to calm her down. "He's part of the ritual."_

_The priest walked forward, to the basin and pulled out a small knife engraved with Romanian scriptures. _

_"Wha – what are you doing?" Anna shouted as she watched him aim it at himself. "Are you crazy?"_

_"Relax. You need the blood of a willing donor," he said, pointing to himself. "And he has to be a man of God."_

_He made a slit above his elbow and let the blood spill into the basin. He then pulled out a small leather bag and took four pinches of powder, sprinkling it._

_"What's that?"_

_"Wolfsbane."_

_"But won't it kill me?"_

_"Not if it's used correctly."_

_She watched him, intently, as he picked up a stick that looked like would crumble with just a little pressure. He stirred the potion with it._

_"And what's that?"_

_The priest looked at her, amused. "You have a lot of questions."_

_She smiled, wryly. "Can you blame me? That stuff is going to be injected in me. I like to know what I'm dealing with."_

_"It's from this tree that grew in a tiny island off the coast of Romania," the warlock answered for the priest who was busy conducting the ritual. _

_He muttered a monotonous chant in some strange language while stirring. The only word she recognized was 'vârcolac' because of the intense research she had been doing for the past years since the bite. After stirring, he tightened his hold on the stick, crushing it, letting the dust float down to the potion._

_"Done," the old priest said. "Now we wait."_

_Anna shivered, afraid and anxious. What would happen when they shot that medicine into her veins? Would it be gentle? Or harsh? What would be the chances she would die from the process or from the pain?_

_"Relax," the warlock said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We know what we're doing."_

_She sighed. "Well, it'd be too late for me to back out anyway."_

_The priest laughed. "Yes, yes, it would be."_

_"It's time," the warlock interrupted. He hurried to all the windows and opened them, letting in the warm breeze. _

_Anna looked up at the black sky. No moon. New moon. The opposite of a full moon._

_She looked at the priest and the warlock. _

_"I'm ready."_

_She sat on the chair and the warlock pushed the back down, reclining it. He rolled up her sleeves and said, "Just relax."_

_From the corner of her eyes, she saw the priest fill the syringe with the red liquid. With her werewolf vision, she could see the purple and gray dust swirling together, floating in the blood._

_She bit her tongue, nervous._

_She flinched as the priest stood next to her. _

_"Relax," the warlock repeated._

_The priest gently inserted the needle into her vein. He pushed down the plunger, letting the potion rush through her bloodstreams._

_Anna screamed. The pain was much more agonizing than her first change. Like tiny shards of glass were racing through her, slicing and piercing._

_She tasted a something bitter and tangy. Sour. She had bit her tongue too hard, drawing blood._

_The pain was excruciating. But she could hear the warlock speaking to her, trying to ease the pain. She could feel the priest's cold hands clench hers._

_The first time she felt the torment, she had no one to hold her. _

_At least she wasn't alone this time. _

Summer shuddered as she remembered that night. She gently brushed her fingers against the scar on her left arm. That night had been her happiest night since her father died.

She smiled, picking up the brush and running it through her hair.

_Anna woke up, body aching. "What's going on?" she tiredly mumbled, confused. Then she remembered. She leapt off the chair, fully awake. "Did it – did it work?" she asked, crazed._

_The priest burst in the room, glass of water for her in his hand. She drank it greedily._

_"So? Did it work?" she asked again._

_He smiled at her. "Yes."_

_The glass fell from her hands, shattering against the cement floor. She cried, holding onto him. "I'm cured. I'm cured. I'm cured," she whispered. Finally, she was free._

_It took a week to regain her strength, to get used to being human again._

_It was a month later and she was sitting by the fountain, watching the family of koi glide in the water. She heard the warlock and the priest approach her._

_"What's wrong, Anna?" the warlock asked her. "You're already healed. It's been a month. And you're still here. It's not that I'm trying to kick you out – I'm not – it's just… you were so excited to be out in the world again but you're letting yourself be cooped up here in this monastery. What's wrong?"_

_She dipped her fingers into the water, trying to pet a fish. She looked at them. "I don't know how."_

_The priest knew what she was talking about. And a part of him wanted to let her stay, to let her live as long as she want in this haven. But the other part of him wanted her to go. It was time for her to live in peace with the world. She had suffered long enough. "You do."_

_She felt a tear trail down her face. "No. No, I don't. I don't know how to start living again."_

_"Yes, you do."_

She heard a horn beep outside her room. She felt a nervous. It was a long time since she had been on a date. She went outside, locked the door behind her, and got into Derek's Camaro.

* * *

**Coming up in the next chapter:**

**Derek and Summer's first "real" date.**

**Something wrong happens to the necklace.**

**And secrets will be exposed! Ahhhh!**

**Don't forget to M.R.A.F.!**


	8. Chapter 8

**So I realized that I have a lot of mini-plots going on. And a reader suggested to take out one of the plots and turn it into a sequel. And I agree. So, everything relating to Summer / Anna's past will be in the sequel and I hope ya'll stick around for that (:**

** Guest: Well, I _am_ writing a book... I'm halfway through. It's "real life", not supernatural. Maybe I'll post it on fictionpress when I'm done with this.**

**Thanks for the support guys! :D Totally appreciate it! And this chapter is kinda long so I hope it doesn't bore you.**

* * *

Since returning to Beacon Hills, Derek never found the need to renovate his house despite it being terribly burned. It wasn't until he met Summer that he started to repair the walls and floors, buying new furniture and installing the plumbing. Keyword, _started_. The house was _still_ threatening to collapse.

He lived here his entire youth and realized that he wanted Summer to live here, too. He changed so much since he met her. But he didn't care. He loved the change.

Derek quickly got out of the car and went to the passenger side to open the door, taking her hand in his.

He flashed her a smile as he shut the door behind her. He squeezed her hand, not wanting to let go. Because a part of him kept saying this was all a dream and the second he lets go, she would fade away.

He led her to his house and cursed silently, wishing that he had renovated years ago instead of waiting at the last minute. Summer doesn't deserve to be in a half burned house like this. But he led her anyway, up to the door – which he had fit in last week – and entered his house with her following.

Summer was relieved that his back was to her. She didn't want him to see her all nervous and shy. She had briefly wondered if she was overdressed – a light pink ruffled dress with matching pumps and clutch – but decided that she didn't care. After all, if she wasn't going to wear the outfit on a _date_, then where else was she going to wear it?

Besides, Derek was wearing just as formal clothes as she was.

She let herself admire him, the muscles beneath that black dress shirt, that rippled at each movement. Summer wondered how it would feel to have her hands run down his back. How it would feel to have his strong arms hold her like before… only this time in bed. She blushed.

"Sorry," he said, interrupting her thoughts. Her lustful thoughts. "I know my place is a mess. I just started to repair everything."

She smiled. "I'm not complainin'."

He looked at her, grateful. He didn't know what he would do if she _had_ complained about the state of his house.

He guided her to the kitchen – his dining room was still in ruins – and pulled out a chair for her. As she sat down, he said, "I tried to make lasagna. I remember you saying you love it. Hope it turns out good." He put the dinner on the table and placed a bottle of Blue Moon in front of her. "I also remember you saying you love this beer."

Summer bit back a laugh. Never had anything like this happened to her and now that it did, well, she couldn't stop smiling.

* * *

_"Scott!"_

Scott sat up, rigid and worried. "What is it?" he asked Allison.

_"I went into the study to tell Dad dinner was ready and he said he'll be out in a few."_

He could hear her breathing heavily.

_"So I left him, got curious 'cause an hour passed. He wasn't there."_

"Wait, what do you mean? Did you check the bathroom? Garage? Bed –"

_"Yes, Scott. I did! He's nowhere!"_

* * *

Derek watched as she drank, tilting her head back and exposing her neck. He wondered what she would do if he brushed his fingers against her throat. Would she recoil in fear? Flinch in disgust? Or would she shiver in delight, moaning at his light touches?

"Where are you from?" he asked her when she put the glass down.

She looked at him. Took a final bite of the lasagna and chewed slowly and swallowed. "Beverley. It's in East Yorkshire. England." She still had that Southern accent.

He saw the nostalgic look on her face. "You miss it," he said, knowing that to _ask_ would be a stupid.

"Yes. Yes, I do." Summer looked out the window, at the sunset. "My dad used to go to this pub. The Push. Whenever mum wasn't payin' attention, he would sneak me out of the house and take me with him." She laughed at the memory.

"I'm not complaining. I would never. Because then I would have never met you," Derek said, slightly rambling. "But, why did you leave?"

He saw anger that quickly got replaced with grief and Derek wished he could take back the question. But he was curious.

Her fingers gripped the glass tightly. "I was bored. Needed a change of scenery."

Derek knew she was lying and it didn't take a genius to realize she didn't want to talk about it. So he didn't ask anymore questions.

He looked at the candles on the table, flame flickering. His past came rushing back to him... Coming home to see his house engulfed in flames, blackened bodies... He shook his head, clearing his mind from the memory. Tonight was a night for him and Summer, nothing else.

"Wait, what time is it?" Derek asked, slightly worried.

"It's 7:10."

"Shit," he said, getting up. "We're gonna be late."

"Late? Late for what?" She followed him as he walked out of the kitchen.

"Just - just stay here. I'll be back. I need to get changed."

She watched as he ran up the stairs, confused. Summer brushed away the ash on the bottom of the stairs and sat down. She sighed, happy that the night was going great. She placed the clutch on her lap and crossed her legs, tapping her foot in a steady beat.

Upstairs, Derek was grabbed the striped tie and tied it, snug under the collar. Grabbing his leather jacket from the bed, he swung it over his shoulder and walked out, checking his phone.

15 missed calls. 5 from Scott, 7 from Allison, 3 from Stiles. "Dammit," he muttered, quickly dialing Scott's number.

The young werewolf answered on the first ring. _"What the hell, Derek? Where were -"_

"I'm busy, Scott," he interrupted. "What do you need?"

_"Chris is missing."_

"What do you mean?"

_"He was in his study one moment, then next gone."_

"He's a grown man, Scott. He's probably at the bar or something."

_"I don't care. He's been acting strange since that trap went wrong. I think he's in trouble. You need to help us find him."_

"Tell Erica, Isaac, and Boyd I want them to help you. I'm a bit busy." He was about to hang up on Scott when he heard the voices downstairs. Summer's and another _man_.

His heart pounded, afraid.

_"Derek! Derek!" _Scott shouted. _"Are you listening to me?"_

"Shut up. There's someone in my house." Derek walked quietly to the hallway, listening to the voices. He felt claws extend from his fingers and his teeth sharpen into fangs. He sniffed the air, trying to identify the man.

Chris.

Derek phased back to human and walked down the stairs, making enough noise to get Chris' attention. "Chris," he said, curtly.

The older man looked at Derek, relief in his eyes. "Derek. Thank god I found you." He walked towards Derek, stumbling.

Derek stood, frigid. He could smell the alcohol reeking from Chris' mouth. Drunk people always did stupid things. "What do you need." He didn't like Chris being here, in his house, near Summer. Especially since he was drunk.

"Derek?" Summer asked. She approached him, tentatively. "Is everything alright?" He saw a glass of water in her hand.

She jumped back as Chris spun around, facing her. "Yes!" he shouted, excited. "Everything is alright! I found the cure!"

Derek froze. "Get out," he growled, grabbing Chris by the arm and forcefully dragging to the door.

"No! No!" Chris yanked himself free and pulled Derek by his shirt, bringing him close to his face. "Didn't you hear me? I said I know the _cure for lycanthropy!_"

The Alpha slammed his hand against Chris' mouth, shutting him up. "Shut the fuck up!" he spat. He didn't want Summer to know. He couldn't let Summer know. Know that werewolves existed, that Derek himself was a werewolf. Because if she knew, she would leave him. After all, why would someone as beautiful and amazing as Summer ever be in love with a beast?

Too late.

Derek flinched as he heard the glass drop, shattering against the floor. "No," he whispered, pained. He let go of Chris and slowly turned to face Summer.

"Summer," he softly said, taking a step closer to her, hands reaching out. "Summer."

He groaned, miserable, when Summer moved away from him, fear in her eyes.

"Summer..."

"You're - You're," she stuttered. She shut her eyes, feeling her head pound. One word raced through her mind: karma.

"Summer!" Derek shouted, praying that she would look at him. He wanted to see her eyes, her smile... He wanted her to listen. "Please, let me explain."

"Stop! We don't have time for this!" Chris interrupted, angry. "We need to get the cure!"

"Fuck off!" he snarled, throwing Chris away from him. He ruined everything. That stupid hunter. He looked back at Summer. "Summer. Please. Look at me. I won't - I would never. I could never hurt you. Please." He stretched out his hand, wishing she would hold it.

"I tried so hard," she whispered.

"What?" Derek asked, confused.

She sank to the ground, not caring if her dress got smeared with the the ash. "I tried so... so hard to find the cure. To start a new life. A new life without werewolves. Tried so hard to be human again." She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. "To be human again. I'm human. But the thing I ran away from is coming back. Why is it coming back to my life? To haunt me?"

She flinched as she felt warm hands touch her bare arms. She looked up and saw Derek staring at her.

Derek's mind blanked when he heard Summer confess. When he heard her say she used to be a werewolf.

"Wait, what?" Chris mumbled, looking at Summer, baffled. "You - you were a werewolf?" Realization flickered across his face as he repeated what she had said in his head. "Human..." he said to himself. "You were cured." He walked towards her, confidence in his steps. "You're cured! That means you can help!"

She looked at Derek, puzzled. "What does he mean? Derek, what's going on?"

Derek tried to keep everything a secret. He was afraid that if she knew the truth, she would leave him. But she already knew so there was no point. "There's a supernatural entity roaming along the west coast, killing people."

She gasped. "What? What is it?"

"It's called a Wisp. And there's this necklace that has a stone inside. But it's locked. Only the saliva of a cured Supernatural can open it." Derek brought his hand to her face, slowly to see if she would turn her head away. But she didn't and so Derek, relieved, brushed back a lock of hair away from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear.

"You can do it!" Chris said, standing in front of her. "We need you to put this in your mouth!" He crouched, eye level to her, holding the golden necklace in front of her.

She took it, hands shaking. A thought flashed through her mind and she blinked back tears. "Is this why... Is this why you were nice to me?" she asked Derek, accusation and hurt on her face. She avoided looking at him.

"No!" Derek shouted, panicking. "I swear. That's not why. I wanted to do it because I -" He stopped. He couldn't say it yet. He couldn't tell her he loves her because he didn't know if she felt the same way. "- because I like you. A lot. Because I wanted to."

Her lips formed a small smile and Summer glanced at Chris who was looking at her, urgently. She looked at the necklace. She forced the nervousness away as she closed her mouth with the necklace inside. It was cool and smooth against her tongue. She thought she felt it tremble. She took it out after a few seconds and gave it to Chris. He snatched it from her hand.

"I'm so sorry, Summer," Derek said, pulling her tight against his chest. He felt her nod and he smiled, grateful that she was wrapping her arms around him. Happy that he wasn't going to lose her.

Derek froze as he heard three heartbeats approaching the house, three sets of feet stomping against the dirt. He relaxed as he recognized their scents.

"Dad!" he heard Allison shout, running inside Derek's house. "Dad!" She sprinted to him, hugging him tightly. "Don't scare me like that, please."

From the corner of his eyes, Derek saw Scott and Stiles enter his house. "About time."

"Yeah, sorry. It took a while to figure out that he might have came here," Scott said, sheepishly.

"It's not working," Chris said, clenching the necklace in his fist. "Her spit didn't work."

"Wait, what?" Stiles asked. It wasn't until the three teens saw Summer in Derek's arms that they realized Chris was talking about her. And it took longer to realize what Chris was saying. "Wait, Summer is a cured werewolf?" he said, shocked.

"Not now, Stiles," Chris said, agitated. He walked back to Summer. "Why isn't this working?" he asked her.

Summer glanced at Derek, scared. "I - I don't know." She tried to hide behind Derek, not liking the menacing glare on Chris' face.

"Don't lie to me, girl," he said.

"Dad," Allison said. "Stop it, leave her alone." She placed her hand on his shoulder but he shook her off.

"You must be doing it wrong," he accused her.

"Back off," Derek said, nudging Summer back. He got up and pushed at Chris' chest, warning him to move away.

"No!" Chris knocked Derek back against the wall and yanked Summer off the floor by her arm.

"Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" Stiles whined, running into the kitchen, wishing he was anywhere else besides here.

"Chris, let her go!" Scott demanded, morphing.

"No! I worked too hard for this to not work!" Chris shoved Summer up against the wall by the neck, her legs dangling and kicking at him. He tried to put the necklace back into her mouth but she kept her lips shut.

"Dad, stop it!"

The older man tightened his grip on her neck, using his other fingers to pry her mouth open and force the necklace inside.

"No!" he bellowed as he was wrenched off of Summer. The necklace fell to the ground.

Derek had grabbed Chris' shoulder and pulled him away from his mate.

Chris spun around to face Derek. "You fucking idiot!" he snarled. "I have to -"

Derek swung his arm, punching Chris on the mouth. He hoped that he broke the hunter's jaw.

Chris staggered back. He looked at Derek in disbelief. "You... are going to regret that." His face distorted into fury and he launched himself onto Derek, throwing a well-aimed punch.

Derek snarled as he was thrown against the ground, Chris striking his head. Derek kicked him off, sending him _through_ the wall and into the kitchen.

"Holy fuck," Stiles moaned and he dropped to the ground, arms over his head, to avoid getting injured.

Chris grabbed a candle holder and ran towards Derek, chucking it at him, not caring that Derek was phasing into his wolf form. He grinned, crazed, when it struck the werewolf's head.

Derek swung his fist again and Chris dodged it, tackling the Alpha and smashed him across the table, splitting it in half. Chris kicked him against his stomach, once and again.

Derek howled, enraged, and he grabbed Chris by the leg, claws already extended and digging into the flesh, and flung him across the kitchen. He leaped, ready to jump on Chris and pound his fists into him.

He felt a body slam into his, knocking him down. He snarled, ready to rip the person apart, until he saw it was Scott.

"That's enough!" he barked, displaying his long fangs to Derek, ignoring the fact that he was an Alpha. "He's human. You're going to kill him."

He pushed Scott off and started to walk to Chris who was laying on the rubble, unconscious. "Good."

Scott grabbed the back of his shirt and shoved him away. "No! I said that's enough."

"I'm an Alpha!" he bellowed. "You don't give me orders!"

"I'm not asking as a wolf!" He let go of Derek and changed. "I'm asking as a _friend_."

Derek chest heaved heavily, heart still pounding from anger and adrenaline. But he forced himself to calm down and phase back. "Alright. I'm done. But get that shit out of here," he spat, pointing at Chris.

"Okay. Don't worry about it."

He stormed out of the again-destroyed kitchen, leaving Scott and Stiles to deal with Chris, and hurried to Summer.

"I just calmed her down," Allison told Derek, still holding her. "Maybe give her some water and let her rest. But it might be best if you talk to her. Just, talk. About anything. I think she's still shocked."

Derek crouched in front of Summer. He quickly looked at Allison before focusing on Summer. "Thanks."

She nodded. "Of course." She got up when she saw Scott and Stiles dragging her dad out of the house. "About my dad... I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." She grabbed the necklace from the floor and ran outside.

He didn't reply. He just stared at Summer, not knowing what to do. He didn't say anything until he heard the cars drive away.

"Summer?"

_"Why isn't she looking at me?"_

"Summer... I'm so sorry. Summer, I didn't want any of this to happen to you, I swear. Please, just talk to me. Summer!"

"I don't..." She closed her eyes. Derek stared at the single tear as it trailed down to her chin. "I don't want to talk. I don't want to listen. I just..."

He tried to wipe the tear. But she turned her head away from his hand and his chest felt like it was going to explode when she did.

She took a deep breath. She got up, shaking. Derek tried to help her but she pushed him away. She wanted to leave, to get away from him. She cursed silently when she remembered that Derek gave her the ride. "Just take me home."

* * *

**Whew, that was difficult to write. I have nooooo clue when it comes to writing fight scenes so I hope it turned out alright.**

**Let me know what you guys think. Message, review, alert, favorite... which ever you want (: MRAF, MRAF, MRAF!**

**Thanks for reading (:**

**Can't wait to watch Teen Wolf: Frenemy tonight!**

**Adios!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Damn, how smart _is _Lydia? I mean, translating that bestiary? **

**Anyways, here's a new chapter! There's no plot just... some Derek / Summer "fun" time. Well, I guess that _is _a plot, huh? Since their relationship is _definitely_ moving in this.**

**Please, message, review, alert, favorite! It really gives me writing confidence. Thanks to everyone who keeps reading this fanfiction :D**

* * *

Derek clenched the steering wheel, fists threatening to crush it. He kept glancing at Summer.

_"Why won't she look at me?"_

She had taken off her heels after getting in the Camaro. He watched as she ripped her hair tie off. He bit his lips, distracting himself when he felt the urge to run his fingers through her hair as it tumbled down. He could feel panic exuding from her, overwhelming him. Because he knew he was the reason she was upset and afraid. He noticed the hem of her dress had risen a bit, exposing more of her thighs and despite then negative tension, he still wanted to press his lips on the skin, to taste her.

He slammed on the brakes, not caring that he had stopped in the middle of the road. He stretched out his arm in front of Summer as she lurched forward, protecting her.

"Bloody hell!" she screamed, shielding her face with her hands, thinking that she was going to crash through the window.

"Summer, fucking look at me!" he shouted before putting his hands on her face, forcing her to turn her head.

"Please," he said, softly.

"Let go."

He shook his head and her eyes blazed with anger in response.

"I said_ let go_." Summer knocked his hands off her face and tried to put distance between them.

Derek quickly tore off his seatbelt and grabbed her arms, pulling her close to him. He could hear her heart racing and each beat was thumping like a loud drum in his ear. His gaze went to her neck and he felt the beast inside him snarl in rage as he saw the redness already forming into a dark blue bruise. _Fucking Chris Argent. _

She was struggling, trying to free herself from his grasp, kicking at him and for a moment, he felt himself letting her go. But he immediately held her tighter, knowing that if he _did let go_, she'd jump out of the car and run away, leaving him. "Summer, calm down!"

She gasped, staring at him in disbelief. "Calm down?" she whispered, darkly. "_Calm down?_" She wrenched her right hand free and slapped him, hard. "Don't you _dare _tell me to calm down, you –"

His mind hadn't acknowledged that her fake Southern accent was replaced by her actual one but now that he did, he couldn't help but smile, amused.

She scoffed, slapping him again. "You fucking wanker!" she spat. "Don't you dare smile. Don't!"

He felt the wolf yowl, hurt, when she insulted him but he knew he deserved it. He flinched as he felt her bare feet kick him on the stomach.

"Summer, wait –" He saw her knee bend and knew that she was going to kick him again. As her foot shot towards him, he quickly wrapped his hand around her ankle, stopping her.

She glowered and screamed, reminding Derek of a banshee.

"Let go of my foot! And let go of my hand!" she shouted, pounded her right fist repeatedly against his chest.

He bit back a laugh when she did, wondering if she knew that her punches had no effect since he wasn't human.

He saw frustrated tears form and he wanted to stop them from falling. He stared at her, noticing at that moment how her hair was tangled from the struggle but still managed to frame her face, locks in thick waves, giving her this… wild look. Her cheeks are pink and her wet eyes were wide with resentment…

_"Like beast waiting to be tamed."_ Derek thought, knowing that Summer was _far from_ a beast. An angel.

He growled, feeling it rumble in his chest and escaping through his teeth. Seeing Summer like _this_, was beyond seductive. Derek felt his _need _surge through his body.

He was a man, and he was a wolf. And while he had been able to suppress every passionate emotion, he couldn't anymore.

He succumbed fully to his primal instincts, ignoring Summer's shouts of protests.

He realized he still had her ankle in his grasp. He tightened his hold and roughly yanked her down, pulling her beneath his large body. He looked down and saw that the movement had risen the hem completely on one side.

He let go of her ankle and ran his hand up her leg, hard, stopping at her hip. He pressed his body against hers, mind not registering her fright.

"_Summer_," he groaned against her throat. He could feel his length thicken, his pants painfully pressing against him. He felt hands try to push him up, push him away, but he grabbed them, bringing them above their heads. "_Shit_," he murmured. He could hear a voice screaming but he didn't care. All he cared about was his _mate_ beneath him,_ his Summer._

He pushed the other side of the dress up past her waist and he felt something hot coil in his stomach. He grabbed her thigh and lifted it, wrapping the lean leg around his back. He pressed his lips on the inside, flattening his tongue, licking her skin.

He felt the body under him twist away and he snarled, infuriated. He dug his fingers into her hips, pinning her down, trapping her. He pressed his tongue against the dry cotton fabric, dampening it with his saliva. He could taste her. He ripped it off, exposing her to him. A violent shudder went through him and he felt himself get harder. Derek could smell the fear rolling off his mate in waves and he hated it. "Don't," he said, his breath brushing against her core. He wanted her to trust him, to love him, to be with him in every way possible. He brought his hand closer and gently stroked her.

He sat, rigid.

_Finally._

He had sensed the fear but now there was a different scent. A much better one. He heard a gasp and he grinned as he inhaled her arousal.

* * *

Summer had been crying, trying to shove Derek off. She shouted, afraid, when she felt his hands push up her dress, caress her legs, when she felt his mouth on her. She cringed, hitting his back to get his attention, that she didn't want this. But he was too strong.

"Stop!" she said, angry. "Stop it!"

She froze when she felt him press his tongue against her. When he pulled off her tan cotton panties, panic hit her full speed. "Derek, no!"

She winced when she felt his claws pierce her skin again. "Stop, stop, stop!"

And then she laid still, her slender, small body underneath Derek's muscular, large one.

She felt her stomach clench and her senses tingled with passion. Like gentle shocks humming throughout her.

"Don't stop," she whispered.

* * *

He touched her again, feeling the wolf howl in pride when she spread her legs wider, wrapping them around his waist, pulling him closer. Derek slowly and gently made circles against her, his muscles shuddering in desire as he felt her wetness gather. Her hips moved with his hand as he slipped his fingers inside, strong strokes.

Derek groaned at her slick tightness.

He crawled up to look at her face, to see her expression. He was disappointed when he saw her eyes shut but it was quickly replaced with satisfaction knowing that it was because she mind-blown by his touches. He felt his pants press tight against him but he ignored it. Derek watched as she licked her lips, biting down on her lower lip.

He went crazy when he heard her moan softly, tilting her head back, hips grinding against his hand.

"Fuck," he groaned and he latched his lips to hers, invading her mouth with his tongue. When she kissed him back with equal passion, he felt as if everything he suffered from - his failures and anguish - was worth it because of this moment. She moaned and he almost howled in pleasure when he felt that moan vibrate down his throat. He pressed deeper inside her wet, sensitive heat, relishing the feel of her pulsing around his fingers.

"Summer," he said against her lips. And then he felt as if his mind exploded when she closed her mouth around his tongue, sucking gently. He had never had his tongue sucked but the feeling made him cum just a little.

That took him by surprise. And he loved it. "More," he tried to say and he was thrilled when she responded by doing just that, sucking harder.

He quickly pulled his fingers out of her core and hoisted her up, her back now against the door. Derek wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her tight. He brought his fingers and grabbed her hair, tangling it around his hand and tugging lightly.

Derek rubbed his hardness against her, desperately wanting to bury himself inside, wanting to thrust in and out, make her scream in pleasure.

He felt her hands run down his chest and he growled in anticipation when he felt her yanking his belt off. She let go of his tongue and briefly stared into his eyes.

His breath hitched in his throat as he saw her dark brown eyes... The eyes he loved to look at and lose himself in.

She broke off the connection, shut her eyes, and pressed her mouth against his, nipping gently at his lip, licking it.

Derek's heart pounded powerfully against his chest when he felt her hands slip into his pants, stroking his crotch. She moaned and pressed her body against his. "Yes," he groaned. He slammed his hands against the window behind her, chests still pressed together, trapping her. He squeezed his eyes shut, riding the sensations, feeling her soft hands grab him, running her fingers up and down his length. "_Yes_," he muttered.

He heard a sharp tap behind him, knuckles knocking against the window.

"Fuck," he spat, quickly untangling himself from Summer. He sighed in relief remembering that his windows were tinted.

Derek glanced at Summer, smiling at seeing her red, embarrassed face. He frowned when she pulled down the hem of her dress, covering her thighs.

He cleared his throat and rolled the window down.

The face looking at him... If Derek was human, he would have blanched.

"Sheriff Stilinski."

"Hello, Derek Hale," the older man said, irritated. "I thought I recognized this car." He switched off the flashlight.

Derek stared at the sheriff. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, annoyed at being interrupted and nervous.

"Sir -"

"Save it," the sheriff said. "Park in the middle of the road again, I'll be writing you a ticket." He glanced behind Derek and saw Summer who was deliberately avoiding eye contact. "And keep extra curricular activities private."

"Yes, sir," Derek said, watching Sheriff Stilinski walk back to his car. Derek rolled the window up and restarted the car.

He drove, watching Summer from the corner of his eyes. He coughed. "Summer -"

"No."

If Sheriff Stilinski hadn't been driving behind him, he would have parked again. "_What?_" he whispered in a pained voice.

She didn't say anything, just stared out the window, hands gripping her clutch.

They drove in silence for the remainder of the ride.

* * *

He parked in front of her door. "Wait," he said when she opened the door and stepped out.

"Wait," he repeated. "Summer, I -"

She sat back down and stared at him square in the eyes. "That was a mistake."

The most excruciating sensation coursed through his body. "_What?_"

"I told you no, Derek," she said, exhaustion on her face. "I told you to stop and you didn't."

"But you -"

"_That was a mistake_," she snapped. She stepped out of the car. "Tonight at your house... That man scared me. I'm scared. And you made it worse."

"Summer -"

"Just do something, Derek," she pleaded. "I want to feel safe when I'm with you. Do something because_ I want to forgive you_."

"I'm -"

"I'm tired," she interrupted. "Good night, Derek." She slammed the door shut and quickly walked to the door.

Derek watched, heart aching with anguish. He watched her unlock the door, get in, and shut it behind her.

"Fuck!" he yelled, pounding his fists against the steering wheel, cracking it. He hurt her. The woman he loves. His Summer. His mate. He hurt her.

He hated himself at that moment. He let her go away and it was his fault.

He had to do something, anything, to get her back, to get her to trust him, to love him.

"I have to."

* * *

**Nooooooo, Derek! Dude, you better get started! Maybe you should buy her roses and a card... or write a song for her... Do something!**

**Sigh. Anyways, thanks for all of your support! :D You guys make me so happy.**

**Please, don't hesitate to M.R.A.F.!**

**Peace!**


	10. Chapter 10

**So far the most difficult part of this story was figuring out what type of music she likes. She seems to be someone who listens to anything but prefers jazz, blues, rag, and older rock. Kinda like a mix of Dean Winchester and Harvey Spector. **

**Well, here you go, hope you guys enjoy this (: **

**Thanks for your support, totally means a lot! :D**

* * *

"La da da da da," Stiles mumbled, flipping through the new selection of games. "Boring," he said, looking at one of titles. "Weird, blah, played this, blah..." He groaned, wishing that there was something different to do on a Thursday night than play video games. "Dawnguard... Spec Ops, Close Quarers..." Stiles paused, looking at the next cover. "Huh. Mystic Forest." He glanced around the store quickly searching for any familiar faces. None.

He picked up Mystic Forest, looking at the cover. "Looks like... a kinky role playing game... with... lots of covered boobs..." He started to read the description, curious.

"Hey, Stiles."

"Gah!" he shouted, flinging the game back away from him, cringing at when he saw it hit a kid who instantly started to wail. He spun around with a caught-in-the-act look and almost fainted when he saw Lydia Martin.

"Lydia!" He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, hey! How's - uh - how's it going?"

She raised an eyebrow and said, "Why'd you do that."

He laughed, mentally smacking himself."Uh, do what?"

"Throw the game behind you."

He looked over his shoulder then back. "Nope. Didn't do that."

She smirked. "Sure," she said, turning around and walking to the viewer's favorites section. She could hear Stiles' stumbling footsteps following her.

He stared at her, trying to think of something witty and cool to say. Just to get her to smile at him. "Hey, how about this... If I pick out a movie that gets your attention, you have to watch it with me." Stiles immediately turned around. He didn't want her to see his face red with embarrassment.

He held his breath, preparing himself for when she would roll her eyes and leave him. But he was shocked and thrilled when she stood there next to him, waiting.

Stiles skimmed the titles, searching for something, anything, to get her to come to his place. "Uh... Ah, here!"

He snatched the case and held it out to her.

"Remember the Titans," she read. "I already saw this."

"You did?" he said, surprised. "Huh. Nevermind. Of course you saw it. It's a great movie and you have great taste." He looked back to the shelf, hoping to find a better movie.

He didn't see Lydia look at him with a... caring look.

She cared about him. And she's sure there's _something else_ beneath the caring, something more strong and passionate. She didn't know when it started. But she's glad that it did.

* * *

Summer was humming along to the music, lost in her own world, as she was decorating the cupcakes. She never understood why her parents loved jazz until she went with them to the Friday Night Sax at a small pub outside of Berkeley.

She frowned when she heard the pause, telling her it was the end of "I'm Old Fashioned". She set down the icing tube and stretched her fingers. Summer winced as she felt her muscles, hard and stiff. They were already cramped. She smiled as the silence ended, her iTunes now playing "After Midnight".

Summer twirled, her apron billowing, and she picked up the tube again to resume decorating.

She didn't hear the bell ring as the edge of the door tapped against it. The music was soothing and she was busy icing the cupcakes, hips swaying to the sound of the saxophone.

She was so lost that she didn't notice she wasn't alone until she saw two hands resting against the counter. "Oh, geez!" she exclaimed.

"Sorry," Derek said, grinning cheekily. "Didn't mean to scare you." He sat on a stool in front of her, staring at her face.

"I'm sure you didn't," she said, hating his smile. She always seemed to forget what she was doing every time she saw it. Like, forgetting she was mad at him. She turned her wrist, letting the icing glide into a loop.

"You don't seem like the type to listen to jazz," he said.

"But I do," she snapped, wanting to smack that smile off his face.

"Summer, about last week -"

He flinched when she slammed her hand down.

"Dammit!" she said when she realized she had still been holding the icing tube. A stream of pink cream gushed out, smearing the counter. "Now look what you made me do."

She snatched a towel and started to clean the mess.

"Summer -"

"You don't just go 'round kissin' people," she interrupted, angrily. " 'Specially without askin' 'em first!"

She scrubbed vigorously, trying to get rid of the stain.

Derek grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him. Their faces were inches apart and Derek had to fight to not let his eyes wander down to her lips. "I'm not sorry for that. For kissing you," he whispered, staring deep into her eyes, his breath feeling like feathery touches. "I _am_ for putting you in danger, for not stopping when you told me to... But when I kissed you and when you kissed me back... _That_ I don't regret."

Summer held her breath, nervous, heart beating fast. She pulled away and went back to cleaning.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you regret it," he said, harshly. He slid over the counter, landed right in front of her, close.

She jumped back, surprised.

Derek wrapped his fingers around her arms and pulled her closer. "Look at me and say you hated me kissing you."

"Derek, I -"

"Say it!"

"No!" She wrenched herself free from his tight grip. Summer shoved the kitchen door open and sped inside, trying to avoid Derek. No. She didn't hate it. She _loved_ it. She loved the feel of his lips on hers, his thick tongue filling her mouth... And his touches...

"You can't say it. You can't because you liked it. You don't regret it." He quickly followed after her.

"You're right. I don't. I _enjoyed_ it. But that doesn't make up for the fact that you touched me when I said no." She picked up a bottle of Fantastic and a fresh towel. "You hurt me." She shoved past him, walked out of the kitchen to finish cleaning up the mess.

"But I won't hurt you again," he firmly said. He stepped in front of her, blocking her path. He placed his hand on the back of her neck, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her tight against him, holding her in place. He shook his head, trying to not let the feel of her breasts against his chest distract him. "I _won't_. Let me make it up to you. _Please_." He stared at her, hearing the clock tick as the seconds passed by.

She sighed. Part of her wanted to say no. She had enough of werewolves and she didn't want to go back into that life. But another part of her wanted to say yes... It was more than just the feel of his strong arms holding her, more than just the sensual touches, more than just the eyes and voice... It was _so much more._

"Don't screw it up," she said. "Now let me go. I have to do my job."

* * *

**YAY! Hooray for second chances! And hooray for Stiles! He deserves lots of love since he barely gets it on the show. ):**

**I know not much happened here but I just wanted to put the romance back to Derek / Summer.**

**I can't wait to finish writing chapter 11! Derek's gonna get the shock of his life! And don't forget about the Wisps!**

**Don't hesitate to message, review, alert, favorite! It totally makes me happy that you guys are happy :D:D:D**

**Thanks!**


	11. Chapter 11

**I can see Stiles and Summer being close friends. I mean, Stiles is just so amazing it'd be difficult to not want to be his friend. (: **

**Danny, too. And, of course, Derek and "sex symbol of a man" Hahaha, your comment made me laugh.**

**Thanks for your comments and continuing to read (: Means a lot!**

* * *

"Hey, Summer," Stiles said as he walked in Jubilee's.

"Hello, Stiles," she said, looking up from the book she was reading. Her smile faltered as she saw the nervous look on his face. "Where's your friend?"

"Oh, he's with Allison. Going on a movie date," he said, bobbing his head, deliberately avoiding eye contact.

She sighed and closed the book. Tucking it into her purse, she said, "Alright. What's on your mind?"

Stiles shuffled, wringing his hands. "About that night at Derek's house... You sort of threw the truth at us about your past. Well, we're all naturally curious -"

"And curiosity _killed_ the cat," she said, deadpanned.

"Well, Scott's kinda like a _dog_, so he's okay -"

"I was referring to _you_." She looked at him, concerned. Although she and Stiles had rarely talked, she couldn't help but consider him a good friend. His optimistic, sarcastic perspective on everything was entertaining. His honesty, loyalty, and occasional bravery. Overall, she liked him. He reminded Summer of her younger brother.

"Uh, cats have 9 lives, yeah?" He sat on a stool and spun around a few times before resting his elbows on the counter.

"And how many lives do you think you still _have_, Mr. Stilinski?"

He looked at her, with a lopsided grin. "When you're around werewolves, not that much. So, wanna give me a freebie and maybe I won't lose another?"

She walked to a cabinet and pulled out 2 bottles of beer. "Don't tell your daddy, ya'hear?"

She chuckled, seeing his excited face.

* * *

"Maybe it's not saliva. Maybe they translated wrong," Derek said, glaring at the necklace.

Chris glanced up from the papers. "I'm sorry. Do you read medieval Latin? Maybe _you_ can translate this since you seem to know what you're talking about," he drawled, pouring himself a glass of bourbon.

Derek heard the swish of the dark amber liquid as it filled the glass. "It'll kill you."

"Lot of things will kill me," Chris retorted, relaxing as it soothed his thirst. "Besides, my uncle used to say, 'just because it kills your liver don't mean it ain't medicine'. "

Derek rolled his eyes as he slumped on the sofa. "Then I'll just sit back and watch you take your medicine. After all, you did almost kill Summer."

Chris sighed, leaning back in his seat. "I'm sorry. I really am. And I don't expect you or her to forgive me. But believe me when I say I'm sorry."

The Alpha could hear the steady beat of the hunter's heart, the pain in his voice. He nodded, knowing Chris was speaking the truth. But he wouldn't forgive him unless Summer did.

Derek rested his head back, staring at the ceiling. He was impatient and antsy, tapping his finger against the leather seat, shaking his leg in frustration. He listened to the rustling of the papers as Chris flipped through pages of the ancient book that the Winchesters had given them. He listened to the throaty gulps as Chris swallowed his drink.

Listening to all that and more - and the fact that the Wisps were getting beyond out of control - was making Derek worse than agitated. But thankfully, the steady thump of the grandfather clock lulled him to sleep, preventing Derek from blowing up in anger.

It wasn't until Derek felt a crumpled ball of paper hit his face that he woke up. He found himself sprawled on the sofa, arms crossed on top of his chest, one leg dangling off the edge, the other propped up.

He sat up, rubbed his face with a hand, trying to wake himself up. "You could have just said my name instead of throwing this at me." He glanced at the clock and noticed that he had been asleep for 5 hours. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I did. You were dead asleep," Chris muttered. "Besides, you weren't doing anything useful. Just bumming around while I did all the work" He tossed Derek a beer. "Come here. I think I found something useful."

Derek chugged it, tossed it into the trash, and walked towards him. "What is it?"

"It's not just putting it in your mouth. You gotta swallow it."

He hovered, leaning over Chris' shoulder to read the faded parchments. "Swallow?"

"Yeah. It _is_ saliva, but it's also your stomach acid."

Derek frowned. "Stomach acid? So, after swallowing it, how do we get it out?"

Chris shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. "Well, there's a problem."

He gripped the table, knuckles white. "What the hell do you mean?"

"When the necklace opens, the stone comes out. But the acid will dissolve it. You're supposed to remove the entire stomach out of the body and burn it. Meaning..."

The table cracked. Derek ignored the sharp splinters as they pierced his hands. "Summer..." he whispered.

Suddenly, Derek felt as if the room was getting smaller and smaller, making it difficult to breathe.

* * *

"So that's the cure?" Stiles asked Summer, spinning the bottle on the counter. "The blood of a willing priest, marble basin, Romanian engraved knife, some rare white wolfsbane, a crumbling stick from the other side of the world, an ancient chant, and a new moon?"

She nodded. "Well, just like there are many fakes, there might be many true cures."

"Good point." Stiles took a final sip of the beer before asking her another question. "How many cures did you try?"

"Lost count." She smiled, humorlessly. "Some of the so-called cures turned out to be, well, life threat'nin'. Almost died."

"Shit."

" 'Specially the first cure I tried. I was in Norway and found this lady who claimed to have the real cure. Said all she had to do was read this scroll durin' the blue moon. Turned out it was actually a ritual for virgin sacrificin'. " She laughed. "We were both surprised when this cloaked man 'peared out of nowhere. I don't think I've ever ran that fast, as human or as werewolf."

Stiles snorted into his beer, spitting a bit out. "Can't imagine that. I'd probably wouldn't have moved. Just peed myself."

"But that's not the worst."

"What do you mean?"

"The spells and rituals that failed... 'Though they didn't work as the cure, they at least did somethin'. Kill, hurt, summon... They were useful." She looked at him. "The wors' ones were the ones that didn't do anythin' at all."

* * *

Derek stormed into his house, pissed. The only way to destroy the Wisps was to destroy Summer.

Summer. His love. Mate. Other half. Soul.

He hoisted a table over his head and flung it across the room, enraged. He had just found the woman he wanted to live with, be with, the woman who made breathing and suffering so much easier.

And he had to kill her.

_No._

Derek felt his claws and fangs extend.

He ran into the wall, shattering it. He threw himself onto the ground and shredded the new carpet with his claws.

He couldn't. He won't. He would rather cure himself and rip out his own stomach than have her do it.

"Dude, what the hell? Calm down!"

Derek spun around, eyes gleaming red. He saw Scott standing by the stairs, Stiles cowering behind him.

"Get out!" he roared.

"No! We have to talk! It's about Summer!"

Summer.

He felt himself relax at hearing her name.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You done throwing a tantrum, Sasquatch?" Stiles asked Derek, still using Scott as a shield.

"Shut up. What is it?"

"I talked to Summer today," Stiles said, finally moving away from Scott.

"And?"

"And I know what happened the night she got bit and cured."

"Tell me."

* * *

He stumbled back, shocked. "No," Derek said, quietly. He felt his heart pound furiously against his chest.

"What's wrong?" Scott asked, worried.

"Get out," he demanded. "Get out. I'm going to phase. I can't control it!"

Scott ignored his warning and approached. "What's wrong? Are you hurt? Is it wolfsbane?" Scott watched, afraid, as Derek started to convulse, his face distorted into a look of pain.

"No!" he bellowed, rushing past Scott and Stiles, knocking them down. He heard them shout after him.

He ignored them, pushing himself to run faster, deep into the woods.

His chest felt like it was about to burst, spewing his insides throughout the woods. But he pushed on, running faster.

He felt the branches whip across his face when he jumped over a fallen log. He landed, roaring in pain when he felt his wrist snap.

_"She hated the monster she became. And she hated the werewolf who turned her into a freak. Ruined her life," _Stiles told him.

He rolled up and continued running.

_"What she hated more was that the werewolf didn't even wait for her to wake up. To explain what happened, to teach her, guide her, apologize to her," _Stiles said.

Derek leaped through the air, his body slamming into a thick tree, smashing it.

_"The werewolf just left her on the dirt, laying naked in the forest. It bit her waist and left a long scratch mark down her back," _Stiles said.

He howled, letting it rip through his lungs. He jumped onto another tree and pounded his fists against it.

He tried to breathe, to calm himself, but he couldn't. His felt his throat tighten, squeezing air out. He choked.

"_Fuck_!" he snarled, raking his claws into the dirt. He didn't care that the sharp twigs and pebbles were digging into his skin, under his nails.

_Her._

_That girl._

Derek remembered when he found himself in a forest, in England. When he woke up and saw a girl laying in front of him, he freaked. She was laying, naked, bloody, face down. He didn't even see her face. Didn't even check to see if she was alive. He just freaked and ran.

He had tried to forget about that night, that girl.

_That girl._

_Summer._

The woman who makes him feel as if everything he suffered through was worth it. The woman who makes him feel as if he could stare directly at the sun not get blind. The woman who is his everything.

He quickly decided that he wouldn't tell her the truth. He couldn't. It was better for Summer and Derek if the truth was kept quiet. Because he didn't want to lose her.

For the first time since the fire... He cried.

* * *

**Oh, geez. That was difficult to write. Didn't know how to put the words together to make sense.**

**Well, I did it!**

**Obviously, I'm not going to let Summer die. I can't do that! They'll figure out a way.**

**Can't wait to write some more Derek / Summer love! :D Definitely will have that next chapter. Totally excited. For sure it will _not _rip your hearts in half!**

**Let me know what you all think! **

**Peace!**


	12. Chapter 12

**I know this is late... I like to update almost every other day. So this is waaay beyond schedule. Sorry ): **

**I hope this chapter will clear everything up for you guys since there were a few questions like, "you're not going to kill Summer off, are you?" and "could you explain a bit more what the Wisps are?".**

**So this is a FAKE history chapter.**

**Hope it doesn't disappoint ): **

**Let me know what you guys think!**

**I don't know if this reader wants to be anonymous but thank you for helping me with this chapter. (: Your input is completely appreciated!**

* * *

Derek pounded his fists against the bag, grunting, trying to get rid of the stress. When he came back to his house last night, Scott and Stiles had gone, leaving the Hale house empty and lifeless. As usual. He missed the days when he would come home to shouting and laughing, all that noise. But he didn't care this time. He needed - _wanted_ - the silence.

He ignored the sweat as it trickled past his brows and into his eyes.

He stepped back, looking at the bag that he had beaten to shreds, the leather skin ripped everywhere, the stuffing tumbling out. The fourth bag he destroyed since last night.

Derek froze, hearing a heartbeat and footsteps approach. "Erica," he muttered, when her scent drifted into the living room turned personal gym. He thought about shouting at her before she entered, ordering her to leave him alone. But he bit his tongue, deciding that it would upset her. A happy Erica is just a smidge tolerable than a miserable Erica.

"What do you want?" he said, irritated.

Erica either ignored it or didn't notice. "Nothing. I was just bored." She raised her brows, seeing the ruined punching bags. "I thought you bought them for us."

"I did." He grabbed a gallon bottle of water, quickly drinking it entirely.

"Does that mean we don't have to punch those stupid bags during tonight's practice?"

Glaring at her snide tone, he snapped, "Those stupid bags help you get stronger."

"We're already strong."

He slammed the empty bottle against his hand, crushing it. "No, you're not. Not until you pass Scott mentally and physically."

She watched as he attached another bag to the ceiling, staring at his bare back and the powerful muscles as they rippled from the movement.

She remembered the first time she saw Derek shirtless. She had always known he was physically perfect, but didn't know how _fucking hot_ he was until their first practice when he barged into the basement of that abandoned restaurant, yanking his shirt over his head. Derek had turned to look at her with a smile, knowing the effect he had on her, but not caring that she was aroused. She had been horrified and embarrassed.

But now she just leers and dares him to take her then and there.

"You're doing it again," he said, kicking at the bag with a loud smack. "And you better stop before I break your other wrist like last time." He put his hands on both sides, steadying it before he kicked it again.

Erica laughed, sauntering towards him. She walked around to the other side of the bag, opposite of him, and placed her hands on his. Peering over the bag, she whispered, "But I like it rough."

He slipped his hands out of hers and quickly rammed his fist against the bag. He smirked when she stumbled back, caught off guard when it slammed against her. "Why are you here, Erica? You should be in school." he asked, continuing his abuse on the bag.

Her heels scuffed against the floor. She straightened her close, huffing in annoyance. "Could you not? I'm wearing new shoes." She ignored his glare. "And besides, school is over. Isaac and Boyd are taking their fine time getting here." She flicked a lock of hair away from her eyes. "_I _on the other hand am a good little beta by being on time. You should reward me," she said, winking playfully at him.

He glanced at her. "Then be a good little beta and stop talking."

Her heels clicked against the wooden floor as she walked to face his back, hips swaying. She briefly relished in the staccato sound. Years ago, when she was human, she would have never worn heels let alone cute flats. But now as a werewolf, her ratty, filthy sneakers were replaced with heels of various heights and numerous fancy flats.

"So… What are you going to do about _Summer_."

He stood, rigid. "Who told you about Summer?"

"Derek, Derek, Derek," Erica whispered as she leaned against his back, arms wrapped around his shoulder and crossing in front of his chest.

Erica had been walking to the Biology Lab when she heard the hushed yet panicked voices of Scott and Stiles. She was about to walk past them but then she heard them say "_Derek_" and of course she had to know. Erica walked quietly to the door, hiding from the window, and listened – _eavesdropped _– to their conversation.

_"Think about it, Scott. We tell Derek about how she was bitten, and he goes Berserkers on us!"_

_"And?"_

_"And? What do you mean and? And? And I think Derek is the one who bit Summer!"_

_"Oh, shit. You think so?"_

_"I know so!"_

_"Wait, Stiles. You told Derek that Summer hates the werewolf that bit her. In other words, she hates Derek."_

_"So?"_

_"What do you mean so?"_

_"I mean, I'd hate him, too! You hated Peter and you still do."_

_"That's not the point. I'm saying that now that Derek knows what happened, how's everything going to play out? You can't be mates with someone who hates you."_

She didn't know who Summer was but judging by how pleasant Derek had been lately, Erica knew they were telling the truth.

"Derek." She traced his ear with the tip of her finger, slowly moving down to lightly stroke his throat. She teasingly tapped her fingers against where his heart beats.

"Does it hurt? Your heart?" She pressed her lips against his cheek.

He felt her lips pout.

Derek growled and grabbed her arms, flinging her over his head and onto the ground. "How many times do I have to tell you, I'm _not_ interested in you. At all."

She hit the hard floor with a bang. She bared her fangs, hissing at him. "Until you realize she's a distraction."

"She's not a distraction," he said, glowering at her.

"Yes, she is," she said, pushing herself off the ground. "Ever since you met her, you've been neglecting us, forgetting about the Wisps." She sashayed towards him, resting her hand flat against his chest, letting it crawl to the back of his neck, bringing him closer to her. "And you forgot that the full moon is coming up."

He ignored her, going back to punching the bag in a steady beat.

"Didn't you hear what Stiles said? _She hates you_," she murmured against his cheek, feeling the rough stubble against her lips. "She hates you."

Derek squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his teeth. It's true. That _is _what Stiles said… "I don't care."

"You should!" she snapped. "She's human. She would never understand you. Understand why being a werewolf is so glorious."

"She said she hates the _wolf_," Derek finally said. "She didn't say she hates _me._"

"There's no difference. The wolf and you are the same."

"You're wrong."

"She doesn't understand. What you did… You gave her a gift," she said, her other hand trailing down his chest. "And she threw it away. Ungrateful. Just forget about her. There are plenty of other wolves in the forest. You can find another mate."

"Shut up, Erica," he snarled, shredding through the leather with his claws.

Erica frowned, letting Derek go. She looked at him, studying his expression, his stance. "She's not just your _mate_," she said, finally understanding. "You actually are _in love_ with her."

Derek gave her a look, confirming her words. He had wanted to keep his pack out of the loop, to tell them after the full moon. Erica, Isaac, and Boyd already had too much to worry about, Derek didn't want to add more to the stress.

"So, the Alpha wolf _and _Derek Hale have both found their mate. Charming," Erica said, uncertainty in her voice. "Does she know?"

He shook his head. "Not yet."

"When will you tell her?"

"I don't know."

She nodded, slowly, trying to wrap her mind around the new information. "Do us a favor."

"What?"

"Stay away from her."

He growled, stepping towards her menacingly. "I can't do that, Erica."

"Can't or won't?"

"_Both_."

"Derek, we already have too much on our hands right now," she said, trying to explain. "I'm happy for you. I know Isaac and Boyd will be, too. But we have a Supernatural murderer to deal with. And so many other things." She placed a hand on his arm, trying to calm him down. "This is the first full moon since you met Summer. How do you think your wolf will react? It's too much at once. Keep your distance for the next two weeks. Actually, I think you should stay away from her until we get rid of the Wisps."

"You don't get it," he said, eyes shut and fists clenched.

"_Try._ Because right now, you don't need any distractions. Your first priority is your pack."

* * *

Scott stared, half impressed half not, when Stiles was able to fit a fistful of Dorito chips into his mouth. "How do you do that?" he asked genuinely curious.

"Do what?" Stiles asked, munching with his mouth open, tiny orange crumbs falling out onto his laptop. He quickly brushed them off, not caring as they landed on the carpet.

"Eat that much and not get sick?"

"Oh, I do get sick, trust me." Stiles finished his Coke and crushed the can. "And trust me when I say you do _not_ want to be there when I do."

Scott shuddered, trying to not picture Stiles surrounded by a puddle of orange vomit.

"Guys, can we please get back to topic?" Allison groaned, dropping back to rest her head on the pillows.

The three of them were in Stiles' bedroom, researching and studying different tactics to destroy the Wisps – not for their upcoming calculus test like they told their parents.

None of them wanted to hurt Summer. She had become a close friend.

"I got it," Stiles said, a look of pride on his face, tongue wiggling around inside his mouth.

Scott and Allison jolted from their daydreams and laziness, paying attention to Stiles.

Stiles looked back at them, confused. "What?"

"What do you mean _what_?" Scott said, impatient. "What is it?"

They watched, intently, as Stiles stuck his hand in his mouth and pulled out a sharp piece of the corner of a Dorito. "This. I got it. It was stuck between my teeth."

"Ugh, Stiles!" Allison shouted, jumping on Stiles with his blanket, quickly wrapping his head with it.

"Hey, get off!" Stiles exclaimed.

"No! Not until you find a solution!"

"Why is it always me? Why do I have to do everything?" he complained, his voice muffled.

"Because you're the best at it! It takes you half the time it takes us to find what we're looking for," Scott said, exasperated. He rolled his eyes hen Stiles yanked the blanket off his head, a smug grin on his face. "Oh, please, Stiles. Humbleness is not becoming of you," he sarcastically said.

"Well, since you acknowledge my amazingness, I will reluctantly acquiesce," Stiles said feigning a haughty expression. "But there's no need to do anymore research."

"Why not?" Allison asked.

"Because I already found a solution." Stiles grinned, a triumphant look and a fist in the air. "And it requires no pain, no sacrifice."

"Well, what is it?" Scott asked.

"Remember what happened with Jackson?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it's kinda like that. Having a master. We need to find who distributed the coins. And get him to retrieve them back from the people he handed them out to. Boom!" Stiles shouted, slamming his hand against his leg. "Just like that!"

"Just like that?" Allison questioned, uncertain. "It sounds too easy, you know? Going from human sacrifice to… making him get the coins back."

"Not easy," Stiles said, shaking his head.

"Of course. There just _had _to be a catch." Scott ran a hand down his face, exhausted. "There can never be a simple solution to anything."

"As I was saying, before Scott interrupted me," Stiles said, tilting his head back to pour some chips into his mouth. Chewing and swallowing slowly, he continued, "Not easy, but safe. And that's all that's important. _Safe_."

"True." Allison nodded, grabbing a chip. "So what did you find out?"

"I was getting nowhere with the Wisps. I mean, these things have been really good at keeping their existence a secret." Stiles paused, rubbing the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand. "So I took a step back, literally. I stepped back and looked at everything from an aerial view. Like a hawk."

"And?"

"And I realized we've been trying to find the answers from three different ways."

"Which are?" Scott asked.

"Number one, the Wisps." Stiles lifted another finger. "Number two, Summer. Number three, the necklace."

"And?"

Stiles looked at Scott and Allison, raising his brows. "Seriously? You don't know?"

"If we did, would we be asking you?"

"Hmm… True. Well, anyways, then it hit me. We had everything on the table. The Wisps, Summer, the necklace, and the coins. So…" Stiles waved his hands in a circular gesture, excitedly and trying to get the idea to click in his friends' minds. "_So_…"

Allison gasped. "The coins! We've been totally neglecting the coins!"

Scott gaped, finally understanding what Stiles was suggesting. "Shit, Stiles!"

"Yeah!" he said. "I didn't realize that until we came back from Derek's place. When I did, I started researching online to find some coin myths and legends. And anything resembling these symbols."

"What did you find?" Scott asked.

They watched as Stiles pulled out a folder from under his mattress.

"I found this," Stiles answered. He handed them the papers he had printed out last night.

Allison took the papers and started to skim, reading the parts that Stiles had conveniently highlighted.

"Dude, you got this all from _Wikipedia_," Scott said, when he glanced over Allison's shoulder to read the papers.

"So?" Stiles said, mouthful of doritos. "Wiki is a good place to start."

"Well, it's where people dick around. You know, put lies and joke about serious stuff."

"Well, it's also where people with knowledge can share with readers. You know, put truths and not joke about serious stuff," Stiles defended.

"Hey," Allison interrupted. "It says here that in English folklore, Puck is a mischievous, playful sprite."

"I could use some Sprite right now," Stiles grumbled, seeing that he had drank all the soda.

She smiled, amused at Stiles' comment. "Anyways, he likes to prank people and lead them off their paths. You know, tricking them to follow him. And here's the important connection – he uses _echoes_ and _lights_ and sometimes _mirages_. Describes the Wisps perfectly. So this _master _could be using the coins to have people stray from their paths of no addiction."

"So, he's a prankster," Scott said. "But why is he killing people?"

"Centuries of being imprisoned in the coins can do some serious damage to your playful personality. Turns you nasty and hungry for revenge and violence. Anyways, according this," Allison said, looking at a different source, "Puck somehow ended up in Wallachia, after Vlad Țepeș – " she looked at them, assuming that they didn't know who Vlad was, " – you know, Vlad the Impaler, Vlad the Third…"

"Yeah, Allison, we know. I wrote about The Impaler for my biology paper," Stiles said.

"Wait, biology?" Scott asked, curious and in disbelief.

"Yeah. Impaling and human dismemberment works really great with biology."

"It's so difficult sticking to topic with you two," Allison sighed. "Anyways, after Vlad burned through a region of the Danube, which apparently was a nesting ground for a lot of pucas which are spirits who worship Puck - "

"Okay, enough background. Just tell me about Puck and the coins," Scott interrupted. "Since you and Stiles already know everything."

"Well, stories vary but the most common relating to the coins is this one. In retaliation, Puck tricked Vlad into entering Hungary to seek sanctuary after one of his failed conquest. Turns out he didn't get it. Got arrested instead - "

"And?"

"And Vlad eventually found out the truth. So after he escaped, he tracked down Puck - "

"And?"

"Would you please shut up and let me finish, Scott? So then he captured him, ripped out his soul, tore it into many pieces, and trapped each in these coins.

"Like Voldemort and the horcruxes," Stiles mumbled.

"Yeah, like that. And to make sure the pieces never get freed, he branded them with this symbol." She pointed to the zoomed shots of the coins, emphasizing the geometric symbol on each.

"So anyone who has these coins control Puck's soul?" Scott asked.

"Not that simple. It's like a scene from a typical, indie, awful supernatural movie," she answered. "You say a chant, sprinkle some of your blood on it, and done. You control Puck."

"So basically, Puck is like the creator of the Wisps. Vlad pulls a Voldemort on Puck, rips out his soul and shreds it into many pieces, each locked in a coin. And the master who owns these coins has been passing them around to kill. How do we stop it?"

"The coins work only for someone who wants revenge. And the only way to end this is to have the master forgive the wrongdoer," Stiles said.

"You think this killer has some problem with relapsed people? May be why he or she has been passing them out," Scott said.

"So we find the master, persuade him or her to forgive, then retrieve the coins from his targets," Allison said.

"That_ does not_ sound easy," Stiles said, holding on to his chair as it spun around.

"Like you said." Allison looked at her friends. "Not easy, but at least Summer will be safe."

They all stared at the photos, worried about what would happen if they didn't find the killer soon.

* * *

**Thanks to everyone who MRAFed! (messaged, reviewed, alert, favorited) And even if you didn't, thank you anyways for being patient with me and reading this fanfiction - putting up with my grammar, expositions, ridiculousness, and whatever else is in this. :D :D :D**


	13. Chapter 13

**A reader asked why I stopped with the Summer flashbacks. I honestly don't know why. I guess it's because I got impatient and just wanted to start writing the actual story. ):**

**Please, let me know what ya'll think! (: Reading reviews and seeing alerts/favorites definitely keep me motivated. It's like a bar of chocolate.**

* * *

"Are you sure she'll want to come?" Allison asked. Her hand paused inches away from the door of Jubilee's.

"Yeah, yeah!" Scott said, trying to assure her. He placed his hands on her waist, encouraging her to stop freaking out. "I mean, you two had gotten pretty close, right? So why wouldn't she?"

"Well, Summer may like all of us," Stiles answered, "But remember? Last time Poppa Argent and Summer were in the same room, he tried to kill her. And these past days, we conveniently have been _avoiding_ talking about him in front of her." He laughed at Scott's irritated look, nudging past his friends.

Allison looked at Scott, frowning, and said, "He's right, you know? She likes all of us, but I don't know if she likes my dad. I mean, when Summer came to drop Bashful off, my dad opened the door. I could literally feel the icy tension between them. They were civil and polite, but so rigid. "

Scott kept his mouth shut, not knowing how to respond.

"Well, asides from the two options – she says no, she says yes – there's also a third." Stiles looked at them mischievously. "If Summer does want to come to your party, we could lock your dad in the basement."

"Dude, seriously?" Scott asked, shaking his head.

They followed Stiles inside and sat down at a booth. Allison fidgeted in her seat, nervous, occasionally bumping into Stiles who was sitting next to her.

"You ask," she whispered to Stiles. "She's known you longer than she's known us."

"Listen." Scott reached over the table and held her hand. "Stop freaking out, okay? It's just a birthday dinner. You're not inviting her to a hunt, okay? Just a dinner."

She nodded, finally calming down. She tightened her hold on his fingers. "Okay."

"Sorry to interrupt, but here comes Summer," Stiles said. He turned, leaning against the window, his left arm resting against the top of the seat.

They watched happily as she approached them, a big smile on her face. She was carrying a tray stacked with food and drinks on the side.

Scott and Stiles had spent a few weeks testing everything on the new menu. Soon, the two friends had quickly decided on their favorites. Eventually Allison started to come with them, and she and Summer had quickly become friends even after that night at Derek's place.

Summer, who had gotten used to their schedule, would prepare their orders beforehand. By the time Scott, Stiles, and Allison arrived at the diner, their afterschool lunch was hot, fresh, and ready to be eaten.

And sometimes, when they had a rough day, she would hand them the check and give them permission to use whichever methods to destroy it.

"Hello, Stiles," she said. "Your triple stacked tofu burger with bacon strips. Onion fries. Ranch dressin'. Ketchup and Tabasco, mixed. And your cherry and chocolate milkshake. Extra whipped cream." She leaned towards Stiles, sliding his plate across the length of the table to him.

"You're the best," Stiles said, grabbing the burger.

She turned to Scott. "Extra spicy buffalo wings. Four slices of pepper jack cheese. Extra crispy waffle fries. BBQ sauce. Root beer, no ice."

"Thanks, Summer," Scott said as he drizzled the sauce over the wings.

"And for the darlin' who actually gives a hoot 'bout her arteries… Large garden salad with grilled salmon, crushed walnuts, and diced strawberries. Spinach. No dressin'. Water with a lemon wedge."

"Hey!" Stiles exclaimed. "I give a hoot! I ordered tofu."

Allison, tossing a strawberry into her mouth, said "But the bacon cancels it out. Doesn't count, Stiles." She playfully flicked his ear, laughing when he grumbled disagreeably.

"Don't know where ya'll pack all 'em food," Summer said, amused.

"We work out. A lot," Scott said, licking the BBQ that had smeared past the corner of his mouth. He gave her a cheeky grin.

Scott moved down the seat, giving Summer room to sit next to him.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing at the newspaper clipping in her apron pocket. "Something important you got circling?"

Summer nodded, pulling it out. "I've been lookin' for a small place to stay. The motel manager happened to be walking by my room and heard Bash barkin' up a storm." She frowned, looking at the addresses and price listing. "Wants me out by the end of this week. After I sanitize the room, of course. He hates animals."

Scott tilted his head, obviously an idea forming. "Hey, Stiles. Don't you have that empty bedroom?"

"Yeah." He took a sip. "It's right next to my room. Still has a bed and drawer. Might be really dusty since I use it to store my old stuff. I'll have to ask my dad first but if he says yes, you and Bash could live with us. I'll help you clean it out and set up." Stiles glanced at her, before quickly saying, "If you're interested. But the two bedrooms are joined together by a bathroom in between. So we'll have to share."

Summer looked at him, thrilled. "Yes, please! Of course, you should ask first. And it's alright if he says no. Completely understandable since we've never met. And I don't mind sharin'. "

"Hey, Summer," Allison quickly said after Summer. "I'm having a dinner tonight at my place. Can you come?"

"Absolutely!" Summer said, excited. "What's the occasion?"

"I'm turning 20 next week. But my dad and I are going somewhere on my birthday so they're letting me invite my friends over tonight."

Summer nodded. "What time should I arrive?"

"It starts at 8, but I know they'll be coming around 10. They seem to be taking 'fashionably late' to heart." Allison rolled her eyes.

"I will definitely be there."

"Great! It'll just be you three and Jackson. Erica, Isaac, and Boyd are coming, too. Danny can't because he's visiting his sister out of town. Don't know about Derek. Lydia is coming, too. She's another friend. She can be a bit… intense. But you'll get along, I'm sure."

"Oh, Lydia. My fair red – haired damsel," Stiles sighed, ignoring when his friends laughed.

* * *

Summer swiped the bold red lipstick against her lips. Sliding the cap back on, she took a step back, staring at her reflection.

It was difficult to pick a decent outfit; she's never been to a 20th birthday get-together – actually, she's never been to _any_ get-togethers. Constantly on the move, evading her greedy family, searching for the cure, all distracted her from having a good social life.

She had finally decided on wearing a white sleeveless blouse tucked into a champagne – colored layered crepon skirt from Forever21.

After trying on three different earrings, she thought it would be best to avoid wearing any other jewelry besides the wide golden cuff bracelet.

"Is this too dull? Do I look like a granny?" she asked Bashful. She teasingly scowled at him, when the puppy yawned and went back to sleep.

"Well, you ain't good help at all."

Summer hurried to the closet to grab her shoes after hearing a sharp knock against the motel door.

"Summer, it's me and Stiles. You ready?" Scott shouted. Summer had offered them a ride to Allison's party after hearing the story of how their driving privileges were banned until next week.

"Yeah," she said, quickly wrapping her long, thick hair around her hand and twisting it up into a tight bun. She then tugged gently at the knot to loosen it up and ran her fingers through her hair to let some strands fall. She slipped into her plain nude pumps, grabbed her car keys and gift, and got out, locking the door behind her.

"I feel old," she admitted, seeing Scott and Stiles dressed far more colorful than her. "And drab."

"Nah," Stiles said, grinning. "You just look extremely classy."

She rolled her eyes. "You know how to make a woman feel good. Keep it up and I think Lydia might be beyond impressed."

They quickly got into her black '67 Pontiac GTO, presents on their laps, and drove to Allison's house. It was a short ride that took only 10 minutes.

The three friends arrived at the Argents' at 9 and found that the large house was still empty except for the residents.

"Either we're early or we're beyond late," Scott joked, leaning in to kiss Allison on the lips.

"I was freaking out the entire time," she said, crossing her arms behind his neck. "But as long as you three are here, it doesn't really matter." She gave him a quick peck. "Where's my gift, Scott?"

"Geez, you're impatient." He laughed as he kept the small box away from her. "You'll get it later tonight."

"Aw," Summer gushed. "Aren't they just too adorable?" She reached over and rested her arm across Stiles' shoulders.

"Yeah, yeah," he said nonchalantly. "I'm just waiting for Lydia." He glanced around, turning his head right and left, front and back, to see if his soon – to – be – girlfriend was there.

"Lydia's coming," Allison laughed. "Don't worry."

They walked to the kitchen and Summer looked around, admiring the new décor that managed to express Allison's playful yet mature personality. The entire house would have been pitch black had it not been for the dimly glowing light bulbs that were strung along the walls. A vintage and elegant version of Christmas lights. And hanging from the ceiling were white daisies.

"Hi, Mrs. Argent. Something smells good," Stiles groaned as he walked towards the stove. Victoria was there, gliding thick, white frosting on a vanilla cake.

"Hello, Stiles. I believe it's the calimari," she said, laughing. "Allison loves fried squid so I thought I should make some tonight." Victoria looked at her daughter. "The past years Allison has had obnoxious parties. Loud music, greasy finger food, teens with exploding hormones, tacky decorations," she teased. "I'm glad that this year she lady-ed up and decided on a small gathering. Simple and sophisticated."

"Mom," Allison said, rolling her eyes.

"And finally you decided to dress nicely," she commented, smiling appreciatively at Allison's dress.

Scott smiled as he took his girlfriend's hand, holding it high above their heads, and twirled her around. "Oh, I don't know. I think she always dress nicely."

The bottom of Allison's blue floral dress billowed around her. She laughed, her other hand clutching her waist - length pearl necklace close to her chest so it wouldn't be whipping around.

"And you must be Summer," Victoria said, tossing the empty tube into the trash and covering the cake with a glass lid. "I've heard lots of good things about you from Allison."

"Mom, I thought we agreed you wouldn't say things like that. 'Allison told me a lot about you.' It makes them think that I've been telling you _everything_."

The doorbell rang and Allison jumped up from her seat. "They're here!"

Seconds later, the kitchen was filled with laughing and excited people.

Lydia went to Allison and held her tight. "Happy early birthday, darling! We left your gifts in the living room."

"Thanks, Lydia."

"Hi, Mrs. Argent!" Lydia gave her a wave.

"Hello, Lydia!" She quickly placed the dishes on the table and brought out the Rogaska glasses her husband bought for her on their anniversary. "I know you all consume alcohol." She held a finger to shush them when looks of innocence and denial appeared on their faces. "Don't tell me you don't. I know you do and so I'm being a good mother and letting you drink ONE glass of - ."

"Beer?" Erica said with a mischievous glint.

"Whiskey?" Stiles sat down next to Lydia.

"Nah," Jackson said. "I think it's Goose."

"Wine, ladies and gentlemen," Victoria sighed, eyes rolled upwards. "Wine." She carefully pulled out a bottle of Pinot Noir from the wine cabinet and somehow managed to elegantly open it without struggling or spilling.

"Chris got this at a private, underground auction when we were in France." Victoria began pouring it into the polished glasses, filling halfway with the sultry red liquid. "Romanée-Conti." She breathed in the fragrance and gave Allison a loving smile. "Best use of 20 thousand ever. I was going to save this for a special occasion but I believe tonight is special enough."

Allison leaned into her mother's embrace. "Thanks, mom."

"Well, I'll leave you all. And I'll be taking the wine with me. Can't have you pouring yourselves an extra glass." She gave them a pointed look and left, taking two glasses and the bottle with her, heading to the bedroom where Chris was waiting with the same dinner everyone else would be eating.

"Why does this smell funny?" Jackson asked, squinting at the wine and swirling it around.

"Sorry we can't all enjoy frat boy drinks," Stiles joked. He grabbed a fork and started to eat the calimari. "This. I gotta try."

"Is that mushroom ragout?" Summer asked.

"Yeah." Allison turned pink. She was a bit embarrassed at what her friends would think about the dishes. She had tried to convince her parents to just order pizza and hoagies but they adamantly refused. Whenever she and her friends would go out for breakfast, lunch, or dinner, it was always at a fast food restaurant or a diner. But tonight would be the first night that they would be eating - what she dubbed - fancy meals. "It might look unappealing, but it's actually really good."

"Well, you don't need to tell me twice." Boyd quickly placed a scoop of the ragout onto his plate.

"I love mushroom ragout!" Summer said. "I can't remember the last time I ate this."

Scott chuckled as he sliced pieces of the braised lamb for himself and Isaac. "I feel like a grown up. This is weird."

"We're supernatural creatures, Scott. _Everything_ is weird." Lydia smirked, cutting into her filet mignon. "This is all so delicious, Allison," she said.

"I wish I could take the credit but my mom and dad cooked."

"I definitely gotta thank them," Isaac said. "They even remembered to keep the meat rare."

Hours passed and they sat, eating and drinking, and talking. The plate of cake sat in the middle of the table, empty except for some crumbs.

The friends told Summer about themselves and stories that made everyone laugh as they remembered the silly events. Not once did Summer feel out of place.

By now, she would have moved. Like she had always done since she ran away from home. _"Only one month,"_ she would always tell herself and after that month, she'd say her goodbyes and disappear. But the other night, when she flipped through the calendar, she realized that she had been in Beacon Hills much longer. And then she realized that _this town_ was her new home. And she never wanted to leave.

"And then after drugging him, we put him in this ginormous container with sand at the bottom. Like a lizard in a terrarium. Just as a prank. You should have seen Jackson's face when he woke up. It was all fun but we somehow forgot the fact that when he morphs back, he goes completely nake - " Erica stopped, glancing back to the sound of knocking at the door.

Allison got up, surprised. "I didn't think there would be anyone else coming. I'll be back, guys."

"That's terrible!" Summer laughed. "I feel so bad for laughing, Jackson. But that's just hilarious."

"I was pissed at first," Jackson admitted, ears turning red. "But it is kinda funny."

"Hey, who was it?" Scott asked when he saw Allison return.

She had a puzzled look on her face. "It was Derek. I thought he would be joining but turns out he actually wanted to talk to my dad."

"About what?" Stiles asked.

"I don't know. But he wants us to be there, too."

* * *

**I know, I know... Victoria is dead. But don't get mad when I say that I'll be keeping her alive in this story. Sorry, ya'll!**

**It's one of my silly goals on my bucket list to try a Romanée-Conti. It's rare and pricey. But I decided to be nice to the Argents (right now I don't like them very much) and give them that most wanted Pinot Noir.**

**I thought about it for a while and decided that Summer will find out the truth (who bit her) in the last chapter. Is that a good decision? Should I put it earlier? And I will definitely be making a sequel. **

**There will be a Summer and Derek confrontation coming up. Just a heads up.**

**And now excuse me while I go to type chapter 14 and make me some mushroom ragout and pop a bottle of Baer Ursa. NOT a Pinot.**


	14. Chapter 14

**So, about last night's episode... I fangirl squealed in the beginning every time they zoomed in on Stiles' mouth. AHHH! And when he scored?! I mean, AWESOME!**

**And Allison? Well, let me just say that what happened last night gave me even more reason to hate her. I never liked her since she first watched Scott play. **

**And I seriously think Morrell and Deaton need to get their game on. I mean, the hunters have to know that there are people who support the werewolves. Not just Stiles and Melissa. At least, I think Morrell is on the wolves' side...**

**And I love Erica even more now. I mean, letting herself to be sacrificed to save Boyd? I knew I liked her since she got knocked out by the kanima at the pool.**

**But Boyd - oh my gosh! He came for Erica! I almost cried! All that trust and loyalty between them.**

**And Isaac? I liked him, then I loved him, cried when he said his dad was the anchor, and wish he was my boyfriend after watching him heal the dog and said, "I came to win." I love the friendship between him and Scott! And Scott saying he doesn't want Isaac to get hurt, awwww!**

**Anyways, on with the story... Leave me a review saying what you think! (:(:(:**

* * *

It took a long time - weeks - for Derek to finally accomplish in sniffing out the murderer. Which was why he was standing before them in the study, relaying everything he had discovered.

At first, Summer had stayed back, not sure if she should follow them into the study. But after Scott's assurance, she tagged along, sitting next to Allison on the large red couch. She looked at everyone, seeing the worry in their eyes, the creases on their foreheads as their facial features came together with a frown. For the past hour and a half, they had been discussing the newest information regarding the Wisps and the murderer – Grayson Freeway. Summer had let out a relieved sigh when Stiles had announced there was a different solution. One that did not require her dying.

She turned to look at Derek, whom she felt had been avoiding her for whatever reason.

That thought was confirmed when she realized Derek was deliberately trying to _not_ look at her. She tried to think of a moment that she had done something wrong to receive this treatment.

Derek had felt her gaze on his face and he had to force the wolf to heel. _"Goddammit. Just one look from Summer and I go stupid,"_ he thought, scowling. He felt her stare cease and Derek took that opportunity to study her from the corner of his eyes.

It had been a while since he last saw her ever since that chat with Erica. He missed the sound of her voice, the way she would sometimes walk when overly excited – toe first, heel later as opposed to the average person's heel first, toe later. He missed the way she would dance when she thought she was alone. The feel of her warm body next to his when they walked side by side, hands sometimes brushing against.

His eyes were immediately drawn to her exposed legs, left thigh crossing over the right. He could see the muscles flexing as she tapped her left feet in a steady beat, the pump dangling from her toes. He gazed upwards, frowning when his view was cut off at her knees, obscured by her skirt. Derek's fingers twitched as he felt the urge to shred that damn skirt off.

He stared at her hands, her fingers that were fiddling with the fringes of the pillow that was on her lap. Those hands… Slender, dexterous fingers that drove him over the edge every time she touched him. Derek wasn't into kink but he shamelessly wondered what it would feel like to have those fingers dipped in whipped cream and what it would feel like to suck them clean, to have those fingers stroke their way down his body.

He felt the wolf whine, the need to thrust into her, to have her hot center pulse around his thick member. Derek stood, feet wide apart, desperately trying to figure out a way to get rid of that throbbing desire between his legs.

"Fuck," he whispered, swallowing hard, wincing at the dryness of his throat.

"You okay, man?" Scott asked, trying not to chuckle. He noticed how rigid Derek was standing. Scott was suffocating in the tension oozing off of Derek. The tension he was pretty sure the other wolves could feel, too. The… sexual tension. Or, sexual _frustration_.

"Shut up," the Alpha snapped. "If there's nothing else to discuss, I'll be leaving." With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the house.

As Derek sprinted back to the asylum, he thought about Summer and her scent that he could smell at least a mile away. It was how he knew that Summer was at the Argents' house. It wasn't that difficult to smell her – she had that distinct scent of the fresh earth - like nature. A scent that made the wolf inside growl in satisfaction. But she also had a different scent, one that his human counterpart enjoyed. He couldn't describe it, but it reminded him of the wild raspberries that used to grow behind the Hale mansion, before the fire destroyed them.

He thought about what Erica had said, about him not being at his fullest potential ever since Summer came around. And he had to admit that she was right. But he still didn't care. Seeing Summer tonight ignited that intense love in him.

But a part of him was afraid. What would happen if Summer found out the truth? That _he _was the one who attacked her in the forest, bit her, almost raped her. Would she forgive him? Probably not. He ruined her life.

And what would happen if Summer found out she was his _mate_?

He remembered that night, the night he desperately tried to forget. It had been months after the fire and he had somehow ended up in England. He had become a bloodthirsty wolf on a rampage. Which is why when he smelled the girl's fragrance – that _fear_ mixed with _innocence _– he wanted to shred her to pieces, to bathe himself in her flesh and blood. Because when a werewolf turns uncontrollable, those are the two things that taunt it – fear and innocence.

He pushed open the doors, one of them snapping from the hinges and flying through the air from the force. Derek walked over to a punching bag, hoisted it onto his shoulder, and attached it to a ceiling hook.

_Thud_. He rammed his fist against the hard leather. _Thud_. Again. _Thud_. Again. Steady, unlike his heart that was pounding sporadically.

Inadvertently, his mind drifted to last night. Starting with the long dream he had to the icy shower that followed.

He jumped, spinning his body and placing an impressive roundhouse kick against the left of the bag.

_"Dammit," he groaned, the corners of his eyes creasing from shutting them so tight. _

_"Don't," she whispered, her breath breezing past his cheek, having him gasp at its chillness against his hot skin. "Open your eyes."_

_His eyes shot open, not wanting to disobey. She was in one of those moments when her stamina soared through the roof, when her carnal desires seemed endless. Those were the moments when he let her take control – only to pacify her. His seductive, dominating minx, he would call her during those times._

_He was laying on the bed, back against the headboard, giving him a perfect view of Summer while she lowered herself onto his large, erect member, sheathing him into her wet folds. _

_ Derek groaned, when she switched from her kneeling position to placing her feet closely next to his hips, her legs bent, giving him a better feel of her inside. He grabbed the back of her neck and yanked her towards him, kissing her hard on the lips._

_Her fingers brushed up his abdomen up to his chest, her feathery touches leaving him gasping for air as he pulled away from the kiss. "Summer," he said, huskily, dragging her name out. He saw the look on her face, that coy smile, and it almost made him jet inside her._

_She lifted her legs up and bended them over his shoulders, her ankles crossing behind his back. Her feet dug into his back and instead of hurting, he moaned when she pressed her heels against his sore muscles as if she was massaging them._

_All that tight heat, their juices mixing inside her, Summer's moans and sighs and his animalistic growls… She was so gorgeous – fucking beautiful. Fucking beautiful then, fucking beautiful now with her skin glistening with sweat and her eyes clouded with pleasure._

_He watched, curious, when she reached back, her hands spreading his legs apart. He watched as she laid down, her upper body nestled between his strong legs, her ankles still crossed behind his back. Some of her hair was resting on his shins, tickling him. He reached down to touch her hair, to feel the silky dark brown strands. He let go, trailing his fingers to her cheeks, across her jaw, and placed a thumb on her bottom lip, feeling the soft plumpness of it. Her breath hitched and he could hear her heart beat rapidly. _

_Derek slowed down his pace to a gentle grind. _

_He continued, his fingers gliding against her skin, her neck, down the curve of her breasts that fit perfectly into his hands, her stomach, and stopped, resting his hands on her hips._

_From this position, Derek could see her entire front body and he loved it. _

_He saw the playful glint in her eyes and he wondered what his love was planning. "Fuck," he gasped, as she ran her hands down her body to play with the folds surrounding his hard length. He could see their wetness gathering on her fingers._

_His eyes widened and jaw opened a bit in amazement. She never ceased to surprise him._

_He felt her fingers brush against him, sending shivers down his back. He stared as her fingers fondled her folds. He stared as her fingers disappeared into her pulsing center, stroking herself and his member that was still inside her. Her hips jolted up and she cried out in passion._

_"Fucking – You gotta be – Shit!" Derek sputtered, incoherently. He reached behind his head and forced her legs apart. He quickly adjusted their position and almost threw himself on top of Summer, his chest pressed against her breasts, and he smashed his lips against hers, shoving his tongue into her mouth. _

_He drove into her, almost ferociously, pounding again and again and again. At that point, he didn't care about his release, he just wanted her to be satisfied. Because she deserved everything he had and could give her._

_She broke off the kiss, taking a deep rush of air. "Harder," she cried out, her breath erratic, as she gasped in high pitch at each thrust. Each thrust that moved them closer and closer to the edge of the bed, their upper bodies almost dangling towards the floor._

_His body started to tremble, his muscles spasm in intense pleasure. _

_She shouted as she came, her walls vibrating against him. Derek felt himself pump into her seconds after she released. He threw back his head and howled, the raw sound laced with passion and love. _

_Derek woke up with a jolt, sweat dripping down his shirtless body, wet and hot. His heart was beating almost painfully and a hot coil was clenching in his stomach. Derek swallowed, saliva going roughly down his parched throat. "Fucking kidding me," he growled, feeling an ache and seeing it raised straight up. He jumped from his bed, ripping the blanket off of him, and stomped to the bathroom. He yanked the shower curtain back and cursed as he tore it completely off the rings. Not bothering to hook it back, he turned on the freezing water and drenched himself in it, pants still on. _

He kicked the bag off the hook, sending it soaring into the wall. He watched as it slammed and bounced off to the floor, sending a resonating smack.

He just stood there, thinking about how complicated his life had gotten. He let out a deep breath, wishing that Laura was with him. She was smarter than he was. Braver, too. She would have known what to do and would have made all the right decisions.

He thought about what Erica said. About him getting distracted. About him avoiding Summer until everything calmed down.

But then he thought about what Laura would say. _"You idiot. If you do that, you're going to lose Summer before you even tell her 'I love you.' ." _And then she would have slapped the back of his head.

He couldn't. He didn't know what to do. Again, for the millionth time, he was lost.

* * *

**Whew. That was intense. **

**Well, hope it was a good read and didn't disappoint. **

**Let me know what you guys think. **

**And thanks for the faves and alerts and to the readers who reviewed. Much appreciated.**

**-Peace!**


	15. Chapter 15: filler chapter

**So here is the story of Grayson Freeway, the murderer. This is just a background chapter - filler chapter, thus chapter 14.5. **

**Anyways, what did you guys think of chapter 14? Cuh-ray-zay!**

**Don't be shy to leave a review or anything else! 'Cause I'm really curious and wonder what you guys are thinking.**

**Chapter 15 will be posted tomorrow! (:**

* * *

Grayson Freeway was a 32 year old man, living alone in the basement of mute lady who needed more than the amount she receives in welfare.

He had a family. Sebastian and Elizabeth Freeway, a couple still in love after 50 or so years, and a couple that loved their son so much. But one day, Elizabeth disappeared. And then 4 months later, the private investigator the two men had hired returned. With a bagful of photos. Apparently Elizabeth had run away with a younger man with whom she was having an affair for the past 2 years.

The next worst day of his life was when he came home and found his father with a bullet through his head, blood and brain splattered behind him, a gory masterpiece on the coral pink wall. He could smell the stench of alcohol and death.

At first, Grayson blamed his mother for his father's death. That selfish whore abandoning him and his father. The hatred consumed him and he planned of ways to punish her and her lover – _kill them_ – for the anguish she had inflicted. But then the blame diminished after discovering that his father used to be a member of an alcoholics anonymous back when they used to live in San Francisco.

And so that's who he blamed.

The fucking therapist with his goddamn degree from Harvard.

The other pathetic recovering drunks claiming to be his father's friend but hitting the bar at the end of every meet.

Grayson was kicked out of his house, given only 2 days to pack. He stuffed all the sentimental values into his bags – his dad's trumpet, the photograph of the two of them holding a line with a trout at the end – and burned everything that reminded him of his mother.

The last room he cleaned out was the attic. And that's where he found them. The coins. The coins with some strange, medieval markings. He didn't think much of them since his dad was a devout numismatists.

But he did think it ridiculous to have a huge chest filled with those coins, almost brimming to the top.

Just to humor himself, just to honor his father's memory, he did some research.

And what he found was… remarkable.

A simple, yet complex plan started to form immediately in his head. Vengeance. Revenge. Whatever. As long as the people who killed his father were punished, he didn't care.

He spent weeks filing down the carvings and ridges, making the coins smooth and flat. Then he painted them, etched on them, redesigning all 1023 cursed coins into 1023 sobriety coins.

He switched the coins, replacing the real ones with the fakes, and waited for 3 days, watching and listening to the news, praying that everything he worked on was succeeding.

When the first death happened, it was like a breath of fresh air. Then the second, then the third, then the twenty seventh.

But then something happened that he was not prepared for. As everyone in the alcoholics anonymous group died, the curse spread as the fakes ended up being distributed to other anonymous groups. Up and down the entire west coast.

When it first started, he panicked. He didn't mean for it to get out of hand. But the feeling of regret quickly got extinguished.

After all, they were all the same. Alcoholics, druggies, sex addicts, abused people… All sniveling, worthless animals who deserve to be punished. Because if it weren't for people like them, his father would still be alive.


	16. Chapter 16

**I cannot wait for Monday! The days are going by sooo slowly. I hate the wait.**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter, guys!**

* * *

"Thanks, again," Summer said to the sheriff.

She dumped her two suitcases on the bed and plopped down between them.

"No problem, Summer." The sheriff gave her a friendly smile. "It's nice being able to look around this room and see signs of life. If you hadn't moved in, it probably would be stuffed to the top with stuff." He crouched down, laughing when Bashful gave a lick to his nose. "Well, I'll see you three later."

"Working late again?" Stiles asked, hands shoved into his pockets.

"Yeah." The older Stilinski frowned, lines obvious on his aging face. "The strange death toll is rising. We decided to work with the other police departments on the west coast. LAPD, Sacramento, Spokane, Dalles PD from Wasco. Doing anything to avoid the FBI interference." He tugged his hat onto his head. "Reno just agreed to assist. They've had a few spikes in death that don't have similarities but it's just a precaution. We're thinking about forming a temporary taskforce just to focus on these strange deaths so the other cases won't be neglected. If it happens, I've been asked to lead."

He looked at Stiles curiously. "Does…" he started, tilting his head towards Summer subtly.

"Yeah, she knows," Stiles confirmed.

A look of relief came on his face. "Good. Now I don't have to lie under my own roof," he said referring to him having to lie at his work.

"Hey! It's all for the better good, you know?"

"Now, Stiles, are you _sure_ these deaths have nothing to do with – "

"Hey, you're gonna be late!" Stiles gently pushed his dad out the bedroom door.

His dad chuckled, amused, and gave Stiles a pat on his shoulder before heading down the stairs.

"So… I'm guessing you didn't tell him?" Summer asked Stiles after she heard the main door shut. She opened her red suitcase and started to pull her clothes out.

He shook his head. "No, not yet."

She turned to stare at him, upset. "Stiles, you should! There's only so much we can do alone. And the less he knows, the more danger he could be in!"

He collapsed on the chair, spinning the seat around. "I know, I know. But I don't know how to tell him. I mean, you should have seen him when I told him about werewolves and hunters. Seen him when Scott and Derek wolfed out to prove we were telling the truth."

"But what 'bout after? Hmm? After he believed?"

"He was angry. Pissed." Stiles ran his hand back and forth through his buzzed hair. "Said we should have told him sooner. Then he wouldn't be running around like a headless chicken. Then he could have helped out in whatever way he could. Protect…"

Summer nodded, staring at him. Stiles fidgeted at her look.

"What?" he asked.

"What about now? Don't you think he would want to know _now _'fore things get outta hand?"

He huffed. She was right. It was a bit foolish thinking it was better to keep his dad away. But if he was kept ignorant of the Supernatural, then the next time, his father wouldn't be so lucky. Stiles flinched, remembering that night. When a greedy pack had attacked the sheriff after smelling Derek's Alpha scent on him.

They had been walking home from the station when the werewolves approached them, eyes gleaming with bloodlust. Stiles had grabbed his dad's arm, begging him to run.

_"Run, Dad!" Stiles shouted. He held onto his arm tightly, praying to the God who took away his mother would not do the same to his dad. He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed Derek's number, his fingers trembling. He ignored his dad's shouts of confusion and instead focused on the ringing that seemed to go on forever. "Come on, come on, Derek! Pick up the goddamn phone!"_

_"What's going on, Stiles? Do you know these people?" his dad hollered, close behind Stiles, not sure if he should share Stiles fear or stand his ground and start shooting._

_"Stiles, where the hell are you?" he heard Derek snarl. "We've been searching everywhere! Your dad's not at the station. There's another -"_

_"Pack? Yeah, we know!" Stiles scream hysterically. "And we're being chased by the freaking things!"_

_"We? Who's with you? Where are you?" the panic in Derek's voice became more obvious._

_"My dad!" Stiles searched frantically for some road signs. He knew he was in Beacon Hills but his mind was so erratic with fear that he couldn't think. "I - I don't know!" He glanced left and his heart soared in relief. "The woods! The woods! We're heading to your backyard!"_

_"No! That's what they -"_

_Stiles stumbled over his own feet that seemed to have a mind of its own. "Dammit!" he spat, dropping his phone. He scrambled, trying to find it in the darkness. _

_"Stiles, what the hell is -"_

_A howl ripped through the air and Stiles could literally feel the hairs raise on the back of his neck. "Shit." He gave up trying to find it and instead grabbed his dad again and started to sprint._

_"There's no goddamn wolves in Beacon Hills!" the sheriff shouted, mostly to himself._

_They burst into the forest, dodging trees and wincing at the thin branches that whipped across their flesh. They were almost at the Hale territory._

_Stiles was yanked backwards. He landed on the ground with a smack. He spun around and saw that his dad had tripped over a small ditch that definitely looked like it had been dug by claws. Realization struck him. "No," he whispered. That's what they wanted, the trespassers. Because in the forest, they had the trees, the shadows... And Stiles had nothing._

_"Alright, what is going on, Stiles?" his dad said, frustration clear on his face. "Who were we running from? Are they bullies? Gangsters? And why the hell did you call Derek Hale?"_

His dad had shoved Stiles behind him, desperate to save his son. He emptied his entire clip, shooting at the wolves – their chests, torsos, and even _heads_.

Stiles remembered seeing the look of horror as the bullets were ejected from their body. As the humans slowly morphed, fangs jutting out from their gums and nails sharpening into claws. Their speed as they toyed with them, forcing them into the darkness of the forest.

_"What the fuck are these things?" his dad muttered, rigid, holding tightly onto Stiles, prepared to sacrifice himself if it meant Stiles would have time to escape._

Stiles remembered when the Hale pack erupted from the trees, fully transformed and faces distorted into fury at seeing their friends injured and bleeding.

Stiles had tried to yank him off the ground, to take him away. But the sheriff had refused. He had watched the entire battle, the bloodshed, as the Hale pack that defeated the enemy and drove them out of Beacon Hills. He watched in fear and in _awe_.

_"Is that... Scott?" The sheriff stared at the young man who had latched himself onto a female beta, claws digging into her stomach. He flinched in shock as he heard Scott let out a vicious snarl... The nice, caring, quiet, best friend of Stiles._

The next morning, they decided it would be best to tell the sheriff the truth about the Supernatural and the hunters. And Stiles had agreed. So they had told him everything starting from the night the police discovered Laura Hale's body. They told him about Peter, about the kanima, about the Argents, about silver and wolfsbane. And then they told him how to protect himself, training him to fight not just like a human, but like a hunter.

Since then, Mr. Stilinski knew how to defend himself and his loved ones and friends. Knew who to keep on the police watch list, knew who to bail out of jail, and thought of believable lies to rationalize everything to his boss and coworkers. And Derek had replaced the sheriff's bullets with silver ones – ones supplied by the Argents.

Stiles returned from memory lane and met Summer's eyes. "I'll… I'll tell him."

* * *

Scott laid behind Allison, his nose pressed against her neck, breathing in her scent. He opened his eyes – to see her, to make sure that this wasn't a dream and that she really was in his arms. A smile crept to his lips as he thought about the past 3 hours. The way her breath hitched every time he pushed inside, strong and hard. The way she felt when her walls clenched around him, massaging him to release. The way she would say his name.

He rested a hand on her arm, trailing his fingers against her skin.

He heard her sigh contently.

"I thought you were sleeping," he whispered.

"How can I?"

He felt her shift in his hold, pressing her back closer against his chest. "How can I when you're touching me like that?" she said, teasing him.

Scott laughed. He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. "Literally. I got you wrapped around my finger." He grinned at his joke, then froze, seeing Allison's pointed look when she looked at him over her shoulder.

"Excuse me?" she scolded, turning around to hover above her boyfriend. "I believe it's the other way around. _I _got _you _wrapped around my finger."

Scott smirked. "I highly doubt that."

She leaned down, her lips playfully brushing against his. "Yeah?" she murmured, taking his lower lip between her teeth, sucking it. She reached down between them and Scott shivered when he felt her fingers wrap around his soft member. "Doubt me now?"

She feigned disappointment as she continued to stroke him. "You're done so soon?"

Scott growled, pushing her off of him and trapping her beneath his body. "I got you," he said, getting hard in Allison's grasp. She tilted her hips up to meet his, grinding slowly, teasing his length by brushing him against her heat. Her breathing became heavy and she let him go, putting both hands behind his head. She laced her fingers with his hair, tugging gently.

Her heart pounded heavily against her chest as she watched Scott crawl down to crouch between her legs.

"Oh, _god_." An intense heat clenched at Allison's stomach. They've had sex before. Many times before. But this was the first time Scott would be going down on her and she was beyond excited. "_Scott_…"

"Shh," he mumbled, pressing a hand down on her lower stomach, close to her center, to stop her from wriggling. "Fuck, Allison." He shut his eyes. His other hand grabbed her leg, lifting it up onto his shoulder. "_Fuck_!"

She blushed, beyond embarrassed. "Wha – what is it?" she asked nervously. She tried to push him away with her feet, tried to close her legs but he gripped her tighter.

"Stop," he growled.

She laid there, completely exposed to him. She was feeling to start uncomfortable. "Scott, I – " She froze. Allison grabbed at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and cried out loud. "Oh… _Oh_… Ah, shit!" she moaned, her hips jerking up against Scott's face.

She felt his tongue press flat against her center before gently pushing in, an occasional kiss here and suck there. Allison crossed her legs behind his neck, trying to pull him closer, to make him stay there between her legs because the feeling was beyond sensational and she didn't want him to stop.

Scott knew she was close to the edge, close to cloud 9 because her thighs were quivering against his cheeks. He knew if he were human, he would have winced at the pain when Allison grabbed his hair tight, almost ripping strands out. But it only added to the pleasure. He licked his lips, tasting her, loving the way her release mixed with his saliva.

"Allison," he murmured against her, his breath and voice sending chills deep inside her. He pulled away, uncrossing her legs.

"Why'd you stop?" she asked, pouting. "I was so close." She was panting for air, leaning back and resting her head on the pillow.

He silenced her with his lips, kissing her tenderly, tongue languidly stroking her mouth. "I love you so much, Allison," he said when he paused for air. His fingers brushed the under curve of her breast as he went back to her lips, red and swollen.

She moaned into his kiss, the hum vibrating inside his mouth, and she trailed her fingers down his chest and lower.

She pulled back. "Say it again," she whispered.

Scott stared into her eyes, memorizing every detail of her face. "I love you."

Allison gave him a smile, one that made her eyes shine with warmth and sincerity. "I love you, too."

* * *

**I hope this chapter wasn't boring... I know not much happened in it, but this was sort of a... uphill on a rollercoaster. You know, like that relaxing and calm yet antsy feeling of knowing that a huge drop is seconds away?**

**Yeah... Relaxing and calm yet antsy chapter... Because a huge freaking drop is coming. And maybe more than one.**

**Thanks to everyone who enjoyed reading. And,yes, thanks to everyone who critiqued. It really helps boost my writing style. **


	17. Chapter 17

Scott collapsed on the bench, breathing heavily. He had been running on the trail for hours, trying to keep his stamina high. Not that he needed to, since he was a werewolf. But appearance was important and he didn't want people to question his athleticism despite lack of exercise. So he made it his daily goal to work out in public.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, pushing back the damp strands of hair that stuck to his face. Scott glanced around, wanting to find someone he recognized. He frequently would get bored during his workouts, thus tried to convince Stiles to join him who would refuse every offer.

Scott smiled, seeing Summer jogging on the same trail he had finished. Even if he had rarely talked to her, he quickly discovered that she was someone he wanted to be friends with. When she slowed down to a stop, leaning against a tree, he got up to approach her.

"Summer!" he called out, waving his hand. He stopped, seeing a man coming from behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

She looked up.

From the distance, Scott could see their lips move, talking, but he inched closer to listen to their conversation.

"… it is?" the man asked, chuckling.

"Yeah, it's…" she glanced at her watch. "… 8:43."

"Oh, thank god." He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "I have to stop by my niece's to pick up my dog."

Scott could see Summer stand up straighter, interested. "Oh, I have a dog as well! Name's Bashful. Yours?"

For some reason, Scott wanted to march over to them and bash the man's face in.

The man gave a smile. "I was hoping you were going to ask for _my _name… But I guess you're just more interested in my dog."

Summer blushed, a bit embarrassed. "Oh! Sorry 'bout that." She let a nervous laugh.

"But her name is Butterscotch. It's my ex's favorite candy. After she dumped me, I kept the dog. But I call her Scotch. Because that's my favorite drink." The man held out his hand towards Summer. "I'm Mark. You are?"

"Summer," she said, shaking his hand.

"So, you come out here every night?"

"Ev'ry night." She looked at him curiously. "I've never seen you here."

"I run different paths each time. Try not to get used to one terrain."

"Ah, competitive runner?" she asked. "Military?"

"You could say that," he said, his voice trailing off. "Hey, you wanna go grab some lunch tomorrow?"

She nodded, unable to keep the smile from getting larger. "Sure. I'd – I'd love to."

He grinned. "Great!"

Scott watched from behind a water fountain as Summer gave the stranger her number. Watched as he left, heading back to his car. Scott knew the man couldn't see him, but he didn't care. He still glared at the guy.

After the man drove away, Scott got up, knees cracking from crouching for so long.

He jogged up to Summer. "Hey, Summer!"

She turned around, smiling once she saw Scott. "Hey! How've ya'been?"

"Good, good." He kicked his shoe against the dirt, scuffing it, wondering how to bring up conversation he wanted to share with her. "Who was that?"

She feigned ignorance. "Who?"

Scott looked at her, eyebrow raised. "Are you really going to do that?"

Summer laughed, linking her arm with his, and walked towards her '67 GTO. "I'm goin' to give you a ride, Mr. McCall. So you best not say anythin' more." She gave him a wink.

"Thanks!" he said, happy. He didn't want to walk home, even if it would only take 10 minutes. Because - although he was a Supernatural - he was exhausted _and_ because who the hell wouldn't want to touch the glorious vehicle? "But I'm not going to stop asking. So who was he?"

"Just a man."

"And?"

"His name is Mark."

"And?"

"And he has a dog."

"And?"

"And her name is Scotch."

"_And?_" Scott stared at her, exasperated.

"And we're meetin' up for lunch."

He yanked his arm out from her hold. "You can't!"

Summer stared at him, incredulous? "Why the hell not?"

" 'Cause - 'cause," he stuttered, not sure what his argument could be. He searched his mind frantically but only came up with: " 'Cause he's funny!"

They had arrived at her car, shining and gleaming from the moonlight. Summer leaned against it, arms crossed almost maternal – like. "And?" she asked mockingly.

"Funny as in shady."

"And?"

"And I'm a werewolf so I can smell weirdos from a mile away."

"And?"

"And… And…" Scott struggled to think of a better reason. His face almost lit up with triumph. "And you're with Derek. So you can't see Mark."

He saw her expression change, crestfallen.

"What is it?" Scott took a step closer, touching her shoulder, concerned. "What's wrong, Summer?"

"We were never together, you know that." She unlocked the door to her Pontiac. "And I get the feelin' that he ain't interested. Maybe before, but he sure as hell ain't no more." She sat in the seat and reached over to the other door, pulling up the lock. "Come on, Scott. Let's get you home."

* * *

Derek scoffed. For a werewolf, he was acting like a nervous, prebuscent teenaged boy. He adjusted his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles and brushing off the lints. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door, strolling in with his head high and back straight.

He looked to the front and smiled when he saw Summer.

But the primal side - the _ferocious_ side - of him oozed out when he saw her talking to a _man_.

She was leaning towards him, her forearms resting against the counter, her hands twiddling with a straw wrapper. Her hair was down, the dark locks grazing the marble top. He could see that the top three buttons were undone, exposing more than just her neck - he could see the top curve of her breasts and Derek knew that this other man could see it, too.

He growled.

Growled even louder when she tilted her head back and let out a chiming laugh, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

_"That's **my** laugh," _Derek thought possessively, the wolf inside baring its fangs, snarling with fury. _"My laugh, my body, **my** Summer."_

He could feel the ground shake under each heavy slam of his shoes even though he tried not to stomp his way towards her.

"Summer," Derek said, trying not to sound so curt but failing.

She looked up at him. "Derek!" she said, surprised. She frowned when she saw the his teeth clenched tight and she could almost _feel _the anger exude off him, suffocating her. She gave the man a quick smile before turning back to werewolf.

"You gon' stop actin' like a petulant child?" she asked him in a biting tone.

He raised his brows and crossed his arms. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you haven't been around these past weeks…" she started to say, lifting a finger to count the reasons. "Ev'rytime I see you – an' I know you see me, too – you turn around and walk away… Oh, and _that_." She pointed to his face. "That expression."

He could feel his face scrunched into a frustrated frown and so he immediately loosened his facial muscles.

"Uh – uh," she said, shaking her head. "Too late to hide it now. I already saw that look." She looked back to the man sipping his coffee. She ran her fingers through her hair. "I've been tryin' to talk wit' you. But you always run away."

Derek curled his hands into rigid fists. The desire to repeat her actions - to twirl her long strands around each of his fingers - was getting strong. He just wanted to yank her hair, to pull her head back and expose that beautiful neck of hers. He wanted to bite her there, to claim her. Because she was _his _and _only his_. And he wanted her to know that he will _never _ tolerate her flirting with someone besides him.

"Mark, give me a few minutes, will ya?" she asked, untying the bow of her apron. "I promise, we'll still make it for the reservation."

Summer walked around the counter, approaching Derek with a serious look in her eyes. She placed a hand on his arm and guided him to a booth far from Mark. "So when I finally stop chasin' after you, that's when you decide to talk to me? What ever. What do you want, Derek? Is it – " she glanced around the diner. " – is it 'bout the Wisps? Grayson?" she whispered.

He stared at her, wishing that he could kiss away her worries. "Who is he?" But his frustration was overpowering his tenderness.

"Who is he? You know, the murder – "

"Not Grayson, I know who Grayson is. I freaking found him," he snapped, his nails digging into his palms. "I meant that douche sitting over there."

She frowned. "Derek! That wasn't nice at all. He's a nice gentleman who invited me out for – "

"_He _is a tool. _I'm _a nice gentleman.

She leaned back, dropping her hand from his arm. He felt the urge to snatch her hand and put it back on him.

"Right now you ain't," she said, exasperated. "What in the hell is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with – what's wrong with _you_?" Derek's voice was rising steadily. It took all his strength to not jump on Mark and pound his face in.

" _'Scuse me_?"

"You're not going." He stared at her, wishing she was a wolf so he could compel her to listen. A deadpanned, serious expression was glued to his face.

She looked at him incredulously. "I can't believe – "

"I'm not letting you." His eyes flashed red and Summer gave him a frantic look.

"What are you – _stop that_! Don't do that here!" she hissed. "And I _am _goin'. And you most certainly _can't _stop me."

She got up, with Derek doing the same. Summer turned to leave but Derek quickly reached over, gripping her wrist tight in his grasp, not noticing her wince in pain.

"Let – "

He cut her off, yanking her towards him, her body slamming against his hard chest. "You're mine," he growled, his hot breath burning against her skin.

She struggled, wrenching herself free. "How dare you touch me like that!" she snapped, her eyes blazing with fury. "I'm not like one of your puppies who you can bully 'round." Summer wrapped her fingers around her aching wrist, trying to massage the pain away. "He asked me to join him for lunch and I'm goin'. "

"Probably because you were pushing your tits into his face."

He froze. He didn't want to – he didn't mean to say that. He didn't mean it. It was just his wolf – his stupid wolf was so enraged at the thought of her being with someone else. Derek watched as Summer stumbled back just a bit, shocked. He watched as the vivacious frustration slowly dripped away, an almost dead – like anguish glazing over her eyes.

He wanted to rip apart this entire diner, shred everything to pieces. Destroy. He wanted to hold Summer tight in his arms, to run his fingers through her hair, down her back.

He should have known. He always ruined everything. Hurt everyone. Always. It was like some curse; he touches something and it breaks. And he was watching Summer break.

He saw the tears clinging to the eyelashes, looking like diamonds. He lifted his hand to brush them away and something clogged in his throat, asphyxiating him when he saw her flinch.

"Summer…" he said, his voice tinged with agony.

She shook her head, taking a step back.

"Summer, I – " He felt a throb in his chest. As if fists were pounding against his chest, punishing him. "I – "

She raised a hand, silencing him. "Don't." She turned to walk away but he grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him.

"Wait, please," he begged, fingers brushing her loose hairs away from her face, trailing down to her cheek to wipe the falling tears off her skin. "Please don't leave me. Please – "

"Let go!" she screamed. She tried to get away but his hold was too strong. Her punches were nothing to his powerful body. "Let go, let go, let go, let go!" She stomped on his foot.

Derek grunted, not feeling the hits and kicks, but feeling the heel jab his foot. His grip loosened and Summer noticed. She yanked free, tripping back from the force. She drew her hand back – and with as much strength she had – she slapped him hard.

His head snapped to the side, partially surprised that he could actually feel the sting on his cheek from a human, but fully hurt by the fact that Summer now hated him.

He ignored the glares of disgust from the customers and workers that were aimed at him.

"Fuck you, Hale."

She whirled around and rushing towards the door, shoving it open.

_"Fuck you, Hale."_

The words pierced his heart, his mind, his soul. Like tiny needles injecting silver into his veins.

_"Fuck you, Hale."_

He stumbled backwards, hand gripping the counter, splintering it. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't. There was something – something there in his throat. What did he swallow? A baseball? He tried to gasp for air, to fill his lungs with oxygen.

His heart was pounding furiously, ramming against his chest, like it was trying to beat its way free, through his bones, his muscles, his skin…

_"Fuck you, Hale."_

* * *

It was 10 pm when he found her. She was laying on the bench. Her left arm was resting against her eyes, blocking the harsh glare of the light from the post. The glow of the moon was stretching against her skin, giving her beautiful and ethereal appearance.

Not that she needed it. She was so beautiful to begin with. So beautiful with those brown eyes that reminded him of melted chocolate rich with delicious flavor. With those plump lips that made his length throb. Her voice, her hair, her legs… Everything. She was a goddess. An angel. She looked so much like his mother...

"Summer?"

She jolted up, startled. She relaxed after recognizing him. "Mark! How – how'd you find me?"

He smiled, sitting down next to her. "Where else would you be?"

Her skin tingled at his touch, his fingertips brushing against her shoulder.

She looked at him.

Derek. Derek? No. She didn't love him. Not anymore.

She smiled back.

She was so hurt. So… lonely.

She reached up to touch his face.

She just wanted to feel special. Feel loved.

She noticed the distance between them was getting shorter.

She felt the pain leave her, replaced with a feeling of thrill and excitement.

She could feel his breath, warm and soothing against her skin.

She was tired of running away. Of getting hurt.

She could smell his aftershave. A scent that smelled different from Derek's.

She felt Mark's lips press against her. She opened her mouth.

She needs this.

* * *

**In my best (fake) Southern accent... Ya'll need to keep readin' for th' next chapter, ya hear? Somethin' crazy s'gon' happen. Cuh-ray-zee!**

**And I'm sure by now, you can guess who Mark REALLY is... ? I'll explain what he's doing in Beacon Hills. Worry not!**


	18. Chapter 18

**First post from Korea! :D Hahaha, yay!**

**My mind was on a Teen Wolf high during my flights. Unfortunately, my laptop was packed away in my suitcase so I couldn't type my ideas. But I had my phone! So I was like a mad texter for 19 hours... Ugh, my fingers hurt! **

**Please, review! :D It makes me happy. Favoriting and following does, too. (:**

* * *

They stumbled inside the house, hands grabbing, teeth biting, tongues stroking. Mark shoved her against the wall, kissing her with such passion. As if they were long lost lovers finally reuniting.

Summer moaned, squeezing her thighs around his left leg that was snug against her aching center.

"You want this?" he muttered against her neck. He grinded his leg harder against her, savoring the sound of her gasping in pleasure.

"I want this."

Mark smirked as he took her hand and led her up the stairs, down the hall, and into his bedroom. Pulling her in, he silently locked the door behind his back, hiding the action from her.

He felt his groin twitch in pain as it pressed into his jeans and he quickly yanked them off. "Get in bed." He dropped his shirt.

Summer crawled onto the covers and laid there. Anticipation pooled in her stomach and she felt her lace panties damp. She pulled off her shirt and bra, tossing them somewhere, her pants quickly following. She reached down to slip out of her panties.

"Keep that on," he demanded in a gruff tone. She shivered at the roughness in his voice. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so turned on. She felt her skin tingle when she saw him just standing there – tall, proud, and naked - with his member thick and erect.

He slowly walked towards her, stopping at the bottom edge near her feet. "Your shoes," he said.

Not bothering to unlace them, he just tugged them off and chucked it to the side, an echoing thump following.

He grasped her chin and jerked her head up, roughly. He hungrily smashed his lips against hers, shoving his tongue inside, loving the way her saliva mixed with his. She heard him growl and she whimpered in anticipation.

She started to pant out of breath, as she felt his right hand graze across her tender breasts.

Mark was touching her, trailing his fingertips everywhere. Her face, neck, down to her stomach, hips and thighs – between her thighs.

Summer's skin felt like it was being lit on fire. All that tingly sensation spiking her desire.

"Mark," she gasped, when she felt his tip suddenly brush up against her.

He smiled at her, coyly. Leaning down, he whispered in her ear, "Again. Say my name."

Her breathing was ragged, panting rapidly. "_Mark_."

He moved away, kneeling at her feet. He wrapped his hand around her right ankle. "Close your eyes," he said. He waited until he was sure they were.

Summer frowned when she heard shuffling near her feet. "What're you doin' ?" she asked, nervous. She felt something scratch against her right ankle, a pressure tightening around it. "Are you – " She opened her eyes and lifted her head to peek at the bottom. Her eyes widened. "No, stop. What're you – "

"I'll untie them. Don't worry," he assured, clasping the cable tie around her right ankle to the bedpost.

She propped herself up, leaning against her elbows, as she watched with uncertainty as he did the same with her left ankle.

"I promise."

Mark knelt on the bed. He trailed his fingers across her shin, shooting tingles up her leg.

She saw him bend down and press his warm lips to her ankle. "Relax," he whispered, his cool breath caressing her hot skin. Deciding to let him keep her feet tied up, she reached for a pillow and rested her head on it, focusing on the lips and tongue that was massaging their way up her shin, to her thigh.

Her knee jerked up, pulling the tie taut. She gripped the blankets and sighed when he gently bit a spot that made her leg tremble.

She felt her arousal soak the lace, hot and wet.

He inched closer and finally she could feel his lips against her panties, his breath breezing through the fabric.

She moaned, frustrated. Everything was going too slow. She just wanted to feel him inside.

Mark pressed his tongue flat against the lace while hooking his fingers under the band. He quickly ripped them off, the sudden cool air rushing against her heat, making her breath hitch.

Her hips jerked forward when she felt his tongue glide from the bottom the top in one strong lick.

He placed a hand on her stomach, close to her center, keeping her in place. He took her folds into his mouth, sucking, biting enough to make her cry out in lust. He felt her fingers pull at his hair, bringing him closer against her dripping center.

"More," she moaned, grinding her heat into his mouth.

He reached up, pressing his fingers against her, a crazed grin on his face when he heard her sigh. He sucked harder, her juices filling his mouth as he slid his fingers inside. "Oh, shit." he heard her say.

He pulled his fingers out and rubbed the top of her hot core with his thumb, his other four fingers digging into her stomach preventing her from moving. He pushed his tongue deep inside, strong strokes curling against her pulsing sex.

He felt her nails pierce his scalp as she gripped his hair tighter. "More," she gasped out. Her ankles were sore where the tie was digging into her skin, but it just added to the pleasure. She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt that sensation get stronger. "I'm _coming,_" she cried out and instantly she felt her release, leaving her heart pounding and her vision blurry.

She could feel his tongue wriggle inside, shooting tingles down from her stomach to her toes. She could hear the suckling sound as his mouth drank her dry.

Summer trembled when he took a fold between her teeth, tugging gently, and she got wet all over again.

She felt the mattress sink down from pressure on both sides by her head. She opened her eyes, caught off guard when she saw two steely gray eyes staring harshly at her.

She bit her lip, worried. But that look… it was hard _not_ to get aroused.

"Summer," he said in a husky voice.

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Yes?"

"I'm going to fuck you."

She bit back a groan and her hips inadvertently jerked up against his. "Oh, god…"

"Yes." He grabbed both of her wrists with his left hand, raising them above her head and pushing them down into the mattress. His grip tightened, bruises already starting to form. "God."

He shoved himself into her in one strong force, all the way to the base. He heard her cry out in surprise.

Summer felt like she was melted beneath him. She was completely mesmerized, as she felt his hard, thick length stroke her again and again.

He felt the walls pulse around him. He started to thrust with more force, more speed, grunting in beyond satisfaction when she started to quiver in ecstasy.

Mark was pushing deeper into her with an almost brutish strength. He groaned, his primal needs overwhelming him when he felt her nails rake down his back, her teeth biting his shoulder, her cries of passion, the smell of their sex. He tightened his hold on her wrists, pounding mercilessly into her.

She was close, he knew it. He was close, too. He had _been _close for a few minutes but forced himself to keep calm. He wanted to come with her, wanted to reach that high moment together. So he dragged it out, waiting until she was almost at the edge.

So close.

He was thrilled. Thrilled that he was fucking Summer first. He was so tempted to grab her phone from the bedside table and dial his number. Keep it on speaker. Make him listen as he repeatedly shoved himself inside her. As he brought her to her best orgasm.

He wondered what Derek would do in response. _"Don't - fucking - care," _he thought with each thrust.

Her skin was glimmering with sweat. He could see a drop of sweat glide down her neck, leaving a silvery trail. Not slowing down his pace, he leaned down and pressed his warm tongue against that hollow part on the base of her neck, between her collarbones. He licked his way up to her chin in one movement, wishing tonight wouldn't be the last he would ever taste her sweat, her juice, her lips.

Oh well. At least she got the chance to get laid before dying.

* * *

"You don't deserve her," Allison snapped, forgetting for a moment that she was human and talking to an Alpha.

Derek's eyes gleamed red with fury. He wanted to sink his teeth into her neck and rip her throat out for being rude. But she was right. He didn't deserve her.

Summer was so perfect, so beautiful, so kind and gentle… What was he? He was a brute. How could he ever make her happy?

His fangs slid back into his gums, dulling down to just regular, human canines. He felt his face tickle as his fur receded under his skin, the slight pinch of pain when his nails forced their way back in.

After what had happened at the diner, he had went back to his home, trashing everything in his path. Soon after, he called for a pack meeting, painfully and guiltily telling them what he did and begged for their help. He had rushed to the Stilinskis' house, pounding on the door. Waiting for Anna to open the door. But he had waited for an hour and he was still locked out.

He slumped back, the dust that settled on the old couch breezing up. "I know," he whispered, staring down at his hands that looked so empty without Summer's fingers in between his. Agony rushed through his body, making him ache.

Allison frowned, not knowing how to react. For the first time, she was seeing Derek Hale – the Alpha – hopeless, lost, and miserable. A pang of guilt hit her and she wished she hadn't been so harsh on him. But he needed to know the truth. She sighed and walked over to him, carefully sitting down next to him to avoid being smothered by dust. "Derek – I – I didn't mean that." She tentatively reached out before placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's just - " she hesitated, not knowing the best way to say it, "– you make things so difficult, you know?"

She glanced at the pack, silently asking them if she was saying the right thing.

They nodded their heads, encouraging her.

"You love her," she said. "But everything you're doing, you're just… You're hurting her. So much."

He felt his wolf claw at his chest, whining piteously.

"I know," he said quietly. "I know."

* * *

"Shit," Summer gasped, her heart still racing.

She lay on her back, her ankles still tied to the posts and sweat trickling down her skin.

Mark reached down to the floor and hoisted a thick blanket up, pulling it over their bodies. "That was – "

"Fucking amazing," she interrupted. She bit her lips, holding back a moan of satisfaction. She could still feel his hands doing their wonders, even if they weren't anymore.

"Wait," he said, propping himself up with his elbow, leaning towards her. "For the past hour. Are you British?"

Summer's eyes shot open and a slight panic rushed through her.

She glanced at him, quickly thinking of a lie to cover up her mistake. "Uh, yes. Yes, I am." She gave a nervous laugh. "But I've been livin' in Georgia for so long that I… assimilated to the Southern American culture." She brushed a lock of hair back behind her ear. "The accent returns when I get… excited."

Mark grinned coyly. "I'm sure I got you more than just excited." He placed his hands by her head, his palms pushing down on the mattress. He pressed his lips against her neck, nipping at the skin.

"Overwhelmed?" he said, his lips moving up to her chin. "Mind blown?" He traced the curve of her bottom lip with his tongue.

Summer moaned, the familiar coil clenching in her stomach all over again. She lifted her hips, nudging against his, and grinded into him.

"Trying to get me hard again?" he teased, his mouth moving against hers.

"I might be," she said, her breath brushed past his cheek, tickling him. She lifted her head higher, tugging lightly at his ear with her teeth. "Is it workin' ?"

"It might... If you say my name." Mark tilted his head down, kissing the ridge of her collar bone, trailing his fingers down her stomach.

"Mark," she whispered.

He grunted, feeling himself harden when her fingers glided down his soft, yet still impressive, member.

"Moan it."

A corner of her mouth twitched up in a seductive smile, accelerating Mark's pulse.

Her lips grazed his ear, shooting tingles down his arms. "Mark," she purred.

She gasped, feeling his fingers suddenly stroke up against her center.

"My name, Summer."

"_Mark_," she panted, squirming from his hot touch, trying to pull him closer.

They froze, hearing a ringing.

"Goddamn it," Mark groaned, rolling off her. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, quickly walking towards the door. "Probably work."

She turned, laying on her side. "It's - " she glanced at the clock. " - 2 am. What kinda work keeps you up this late?"

"The bad kind," he said, pulling his pants up, buttoning it. "I'll be back." He unlocked the door and started to step out.

"You locked the door?"

"I have a maid," he said instantly. "Didn't want to be disturbed." He looked over his shoulder and winked at her. "I'll be downstairs."

"Wait!"

He turned to her, an almost impatient look on his face. "What is it?"

She lifted a foot, creating a small tent with the blanket. "You still haven't untied me."

Her back prickled when a smirk crept to his lips. She bent her arms, leaning into her forearms.

Mark walked back to her, stopping at the end of the bed. "You're right. I haven't," he said, a strange tone in his voice.

She looked at him, expectantly, and jumped in surprise when he grabbed the ends of the blanket and yanked it off her, letting it thud on the floor.

"But I never said when."

Summer's breath hitched in her throat when she saw a glint in his eyes. She fidgeted under his stare when his gaze traveled slowly from her eyes down to the throb between her legs.

"Besides," he continued to say, turning to leave, "seeing you tied up, aroused, and sweating, all exposed to me... I can't wait to ravish you again."

He shut the door, leaving her alone. Summer dropped back, her head bouncing a bit against the pillow. She couldn't stop the huge grin that was crawling to her lips. Maybe Mark was it. Maybe he was _the one_. She's only known him for a week but in that week, she felt so... So alive.

She hadn't felt that alive since John, her fiancé. The only man she had trusted since running away from home - even told him a bit of her past and her real name.

She frowned, remembering how his family had spoken against the sudden marriage. They had met in April when they were 24 but made the best of that one month before he left for his final tour. But the only difference in this tour and the ones before, was that it was accompanied with letters. Summer never got a response, but she still kept writing, hoping that he would be reading them.

_"You've only known this girl for, like, 10 months!"_

_Anna could hear John's sister shout from outside the door. John had told her to wait in the car, but she was too curious. She wanted to know._

_"She's right, honey," his mom said. "10 months. You don't know shit 'bout this girl. Who she is, who her family is."_

_"I'm in love with her. She's in love with me," John argued. "She's caring, funny, understanding, smart. That's all I need to know."_

_"I won't let you do this, son," Anna heard John's father say. "I refuse to let my only son marry some girl who most likely was some whore back home."_

_"No!" John shouted. "I'm gonna marry Anna. I am. I love her an' that's all that matters."_

_"Does she love you? I don't think she does," the sister said in an icy tone._

_"I've spent too long losin' people. I ain't gon' lose her, too. I'm gon' spend the rest of my life with her and if you won't accept this, then we're leavin'. "_

_Anna jumped back when the door swung, almost slamming against her._

_A look of surprise was on John's face. "Anna!" He glanced back at his family, and back to her. "I love you, Anna. Don' ever fuckin' doubt me. And we're leavin'. Come on."_

_John headed to the beat down red Ford, stomping in fury._

_Anna peered around the door, sadness growing stronger. She stared at their cold, hard glares. The sister's head was tilted up, a haughty posture, glowering at her._

_"I'm not a whore," she said, starting to shut the door. "And I love John. So much."_

Since meeting Derek.

_"All that obvious staring you doin', you gon' stalk me?" she teased._

_She watched as a light red crept up his neck and to his ear. She bit back a smile at his embarrassment._

_The ruggedly handsome young man finished his pancake and drank his coffee before placing a generous tip on the counter for her. As he got up to leave, a part of her wished he could stay and talk with her._

_She felt a shiver when he stared into her eyes, almost as if he was reading into her soul._

_"Could you blame me?"_

_She raised her brows at his bluntness. He turned away - but not before she could see a smirk of satisfaction on his lips - walking on the white, tiled floor, and headed out the doors._

_She laughed. _

_Oh, damn. "He's got cheek," she thought, amused at his confidence. She hoped that he was a regular at Jubilee's so she could see him again._

_"Kinda like John."_

Derek.

Derek Hale.

The one who made her feel so invincible. Made her feel as if everything she suffered through was worth the pain. Made her believe that Beacon Hills wasn't just another town on the map, another place to hide.

The one who helped her in ways he didn't even know. Healed her broken heart, soul.

But he just took her fixed heart and crushed it. As if he knew that she had fallen in love with him and used it, taking some sick pleasure in hurting her.

Summer sighed, refusing to cry.

She was happy. She wouldn't think about Derek.

She reached towards the bedside table for her cell. She frowned, concerned, seeing 13 missed calls and 17 messages.

Allison, Stiles, Stiles, Scott, Allison... the sheriff... Boyd... Isaac, Lydia...

She scrolled down her inbox, skimming through the message highlights.

_"Pack meeting. Derek's. You coming? (:" _-Allison

_"hey bring some food! :D" _-Scott

She looked further down the list.

_"heard what happened. think the two of you should sit down and talk. he'll be at stiles in 6. btw has a dick way of showing but he really does love you." _-Erica

_"summer where are you were looking everywhere for you" _-Stiles

_"We're going to burn this town down. Where are you?" _-Jackson

Summer groaned, not knowing that they had spent hours searching for her. She selected 'Stiles cell' started to hit call when a passport caught her eye. Curious, she picked it up.

She pushed herself up, sitting on the bed, her legs still spread. After wondering why his passport was out in the open, she remembered Mark mentioning he was preparing for an emergency trip up to Canada. She also remembered Mark saying that he was embarrassed by his passport picture.

"Can't be _that_ bad," she said, smiling.

She flipped through the pages, looking for the one with his face.

"Oh… It _is_ that bad," she said, biting her lips, trying not to laugh.

The last name caught her attention and she read it, confused.

"His last name is Andrews," she muttered.

She blanched.

Summer pressed a hand to her mouth, feeling something crawl up from her stomach to her throat. She felt like puking.

She dropped the passport, letting it fall to the ground. She hurriedly jabbed the key on her cell, panic and fear rising as she kept hearing the ringing.

"Come on, come on," she whimpered, constantly glancing at the door. "Answer the goddamn phone, Stiles!"

She cursed when she was directed to his voicemail.

_"Yo, this is the great Stilinski. Leave a message and I will or will not call you back. It all depends on my mood and how much Adderall I've taken. Peace."_

"Stiles," she cried. "Shit! You – you – goddammit, Stiles, where are you? It's Mark. Mark, he's – he's," she stuttered, terror jolting through her veins. "He's that guy! Gray – Grayson. The Wisps. Mark. _Fuck_. I'm here. We're – we're. Stiles, help me!"

She shut the phone and dropped it, quickly pulling herself towards the foot of the bed.

She grabbed the knots and started yanking at them. "Break, break, break," she cried, her vision blurring. Relief coursed through her as she got the left tie loosened. She wrenched her ankle free, ignoring the painful burn on her skin from the plastic.

"What're you doing?"

A sob shook her body as she heard his voice. She looked at him, dread and tears in her eyes. She couldn't breathe when she watched as his gaze shifted to the ground, seeing the passport.

She let go of the right cable tie.

His lips curved into a vicious sneer as he slowly stalked towards her.

Summer picked up her cell and tried to call Scott. But Mark leaped onto her, wrestling the phone from her tight grip.

"No!" she screamed.

He snatched it from her and chucked it across the room where it hit the bathroom door and fell to the ground.

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy every bit of this. Every. Bit," he whispered, ominous.

"Please," she begged, closing her eyes. "Please, don't…"

She flinched, feeling his cold hand trail up her right leg, stopping at her thigh, lightly tapping his fingers.

"Don't what?" he said, mockingly. He moved his hand to her shoulder and roughly shoved her back down the bed.

"Don't kill me."

He leaned down, his lips against her ear. "I won't."

She looked at him, sighing in relief, only to be petrified again.

"But the Wisps might have other plans."

* * *

The depressing tension in the room shattered as Stiles rushed inside the Hale house, shouting. "Guys? Guys!"

"We're in here," Boyd responded. Everyone stood up, concerned when they heard the panicking tone in their friend's voice.

Stiles burst into the living room, faltering when he saw the somber looks on their faces. "Wait, what happened?" he asked, momentarily forgetting the reason for his urgency.

"Summer," Erica said.

Hope sparked in his eyes as Stiles sighed, relieved. "You found her!" he exclaimed.

Scott looked at him, confused. "Wait, what?"

Immediately, fear returned to Stiles' face. "Fuck. You don't… She called me a few minutes ago. She was – she was – " he stuttered, his airways constricting.

"Stiles, calm down. Breathe, breathe." Lydia rubbed his shoulders, trying to soothe him.

He stared at them, scared. "Mark. He's – he's – Mark is Grayson. She's with Grayson."

* * *

Summer shuddered.

"They'll come for me. They will," she whispered frantically, hoping to scare him – but mostly to assure herself.

_"They will, right?" _she thought to herself, dread hovering over her like a cloud. The possibility of that was _not_ high. After all, she was assuming Stiles hadn't heard the voice mail. So they had no idea that she was kidnapped. No idea that Mark was Grayson. No idea that Grayson was in Beacon Hills. No idea that Grayson had her locked in his basement.

After what had happened in his bedroom he had untied her other ankle, thrown the blanket around her, and dragged her out by the hair. Down the hall, stairs, and into the basement.

"And when they do, they'll hurt you. Real bad. So – so you should let me go. _Unharmed_," she emphasized.

He made no movement that suggested he had heard anything she just said.

"Grayson?" She tried to look at his face through the darkness. Maybe if he could see the genuine terror in her eyes, he would take pity and free her. Maybe. But then again, he was a homicidal freak. So maybe not.

She leaned her head back, thumping against the wall. Summer wondered if he was going to kill her even after promising he wouldn't. All Grayson apparently wanted was for them to leave him alone, to let him continue his war against the slime of the Earth.

_"Imagine my surprise when I overheard a man asking questions at the bar I frequent. Certain questions that... concerned me." his fingers wrapped around her neck, nails digging into her skin._

_"What do you know about these strange deaths. Black smoke. Alcoholics, whores, druggies... Filth," he spat, his saliva hitting her face. "Naturally, I got curious. Who is this man and why is he asking these odd questions? So I followed him from Riverside up to Madera. To Sacramento. To Beacon Hills."_

_He licked his dry lips, biting at the chapped flesh. A drip of blood trickled down._

_"And he started researching these... These coins. That fucking. Nosy. Piece. Of. Shit," he snarled, his eyes glittering with malice, shaking her by the neck at each word. _

_"You people couldn't just leave me alone, could you? Huh?!" He let her go, bringing his hand back and swinging it. _

_Summer cried out as her head collided with the cement floor from his hit._

_"Fucking getting in my way."_

She sighed. Did grief and pain follow her everywhere? First her family's betrayal, her parents' brutal assassination, her murdered fiancé… Derek… And now this?

Maybe she was being punished. Yeah, that had to be it. But punished for what?

Summer closed her eyes, trying to not cry.

"Find me," she whispered, despite knowing that no one would hear.

* * *

**It's about to be 12 pm here in K world. Been a week, but my mind is still running on USA time. Which means I might fall off my chair 'cause I'm just so sleepy.**

**Thanks, guys! For everything (:**


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